Lightbringer
by AuthorUnknown88
Summary: 20 years after Galbatorix's death, Murtagh and Eragon realize there are still enemies out there who want to avenge him. Darkness is rising once again, and Murtagh finds himself trying to save another unfortunate Rider from it.
1. Chapter 1

Why?

Why had he agreed to train the apprentices while Eragon was gone? It had been a fortnight, and Murtagh had heard nothing from his half-brother. He wondered how long he had to remain stuck here.

 _Because he is the only family you have, and you owe him at least this much_ , Thorn reminded. He was outside with the other dragons, teaching them how to fly. They were still very young. The new Riders weren't so different either, even according to human standards. The dwarf girl was nine, and the elf boys couldn't be older than eleven. In the last two decades, only three dragons had hatched besides Saphira, Thorn and Fírnen.

 _And also because you deserve to be with your own kind. I have no right to isolate you along with myself_ , he replied.

 _Thank you. But you don't deserve to remain in exile, either, Murtagh. I understand why you abandoned your homeland, for there was nothing but misery for us in Alagaësia, but here, we could be a part of what Eragon and Saphira have started. Think about it._

This wasn't true. The look in these children's eyes constantly reminded him of what he had been once. They were responsible, punctual, quiet and respectful all the time. Murtagh had come to realize that it wasn't respect, but fear. It was hurtful. He had become the monster in children's stories.

 _We redeemed ourselves more than twenty years ago! We don't have anything to prove to anyone, especially to these hatchlings._

If there was one thing all dragons had in common, it was their arrogance. A smirk appeared on Murtagh's face, but the apprentices didn't notice it, as they were busy reading the scrolls he had given them. Not wanting to intimidate them any further, Murtagh had avoided any kind of training that involved physical violence and focused on reading and writing in the ancient language instead.

 _They have returned!_

Upon hearing Thorn's notice, he dismissed the reading session, but didn't tell them that their master was here. First, he needed to speak to him alone.

He left the study after the three children and met Thorn in the courtyard. The sun was setting and one of the peaks of the Beor Mountains could still be seen in the west, though distance had made it tiny. The Riders' Sanctuary was a gigantic castle, built by Eragon and Saphira with magic, and surrounded by a dense, wild forest. Once again, Murtagh had to admit that he was impressed.

Eragon wouldn't have normally returned to Alagaësia under any circumstances, but he had received a message that Roran was very sick. He had resisted the urge to leave at first, because his students were too young to be left on their own. But then, he had reached to Murtagh and asked him to take the responsibility of his pupils while he was in Palancar Valley. Murtagh had agreed and Eragon had left to help his cousin.

They heard the heavy thuds of Saphira's wings in the distance. A minute later, Murtagh spotted Eragon on her back; proud, tall and still. Just like Murtagh, he still looked about twenty. But the expression in his eyes and his thick beard made him look much more mature. Saphira landed, and Eragon slowly climbed down. His face was like a statue's, Murtagh couldn't see any expression. For a moment, the two men looked at each other in silence.

"Roran's dead," Eragon finally said. There was sadness, but acceptance in his voice. Murtagh wondered how long he had been preparing himself for the loss of his loved ones. He didn't say anything, but opened his arms and hugged his brother. Thorn rubbed his nose on Saphira's neck; he knew she considered Roran as a member of her own familiy. Together, they flew away and soon disappeared in the sky. Murtagh took Eragon inside. They halted in front of Eragon's room.

Murtagh softly patted on Eragon's shoulder. "If you need anything—"

"Actually, I need to talk to you."

"Of course."

Eragon opened the door. His bedroom was furnished modestly; there was only a bed, a sink with a small mirror mounted above, a wardrobe and a desk with two wooden chairs, on which the two seated themselves, emotionally exhausted.

"How's Katrina?" Murtagh asked, out of courtesy. "And the children?"

"Devastated." Eragon released a deep breath and massaged his temples at the thought of his newly-widowed sister-in-law and orphaned nephews.

"Roran Stronghammer, a mighty warrior, dies of an incurable sickness… A tragedy, indeed."

"It wasn't a sickness."

"What?"

"Do you think I couldn't have healed a simple fever?"

"Don't get me wrong, I never doubted your abilities, but… There are powers beyond you, Eragon. Death is one of them. Don't blame yourself for Roran's demise."

"This is not denial, Murtagh. Despite my grief, I can think clearly. Dark magic was involved. I sensed it. Do you know what Roran's last words were?"

"What?"

" _They are coming. Vengeance is coming_ , he kept whispering."

"You said it yourself, he had a fever. He probably didn't even know what he was talking about."

"Trust me, he knew."

"Are there any suspects?"

"For now, no one. But give me a few days. I need to think."

"Look, if you wish to pursue this, you can always count on me and Thorn. But don't be disappointed if nothing comes out of it." Murtagh knew that it was easier when one could channel their rage and grief to a target. When there was someone responsible for their suffering.

"I won't. Thank you… for everything."

"I'll stay as long as you need me."

"I actually wish you would stay here permanently. Surely more Riders will come, and I cannot train all of them myself. As you know, the Elders trained only one or two apprentices at one time before the Fall."

"Arya will soon join you."

The thought of the Elven Queen slightly brightened Eragon's face. Murtagh knew she had found someone else willing and trustworthy to take the throne. She would soon forfeit her title as the Queen to focus on her duties as a Rider—that was the official excuse—and to be with Eragon.

"You're lucky that both of you could afford to wait, so Arya didn't have to make a choice between you and her people."

Eragon understood the implication. "I'm sorry about Nasuada."

"Don't be. I don't think we really loved each other."

Nasuada had eventually married Orrin—for political reasons, of course. Murtagh had spent so much time trying to figure out how he really felt about this marriage, and finally concluded that he wasn't truly upset. Murtagh couldn't give Nasuada the legitimate and respected heirs she needed. Nasuada wasn't willing to give up the throne for him, and Murtagh would have made the same choice if he had been in her position. This wasn't exactly the definition of true love.

"I've changed, but while I'm willing to sacrifice my life for a greater good, I'm not ready to devote it to another person. And I don't think I'll ever be. I'm not selfless enough. The only being I am capable of loving is Thorn, and that bond was created by an ancient magic. This just reminds me that a part of me will always remain in the darkness, no matter what I do."

"Don't be so sure." Eragon then changed the subject and asked him about the progress of his pupils. Murtagh gave him a detailed report, but kept his selfish concerns about not being welcomed here to himself. It was very late when they finally went to sleep.

…

 _Thorn's shrieks… They pierced his ears. He covered his ears, closed his eyes, yet he could see Galbatorix breaking the red dragon's wings. He was just a baby, he couldn't even fly yet. His wings were broken even before he was able to use them. And Murtagh LOVED him. He didn't know why, it didn't make any sense, but he couldn't lose Thorn. The only creature he cared about in the world was in pain because of him. What choice did he have but surrendering to the darkness?_

 _His shrieks…_

The shrieks turned into roars, and when Murtagh opened his eyes, he realized they weren't a part of his usual nightmares. He got out of the bed and looked out of the window. Saphira was circling above the castle, breathing fire to no particular or visible target.

 _What's wrong with Saphira?_ He couldn't see Thorn, but he could sense his presence nearby.

 _Her egg has been stolen._

Murtagh climbed down the stairs, found the young Riders in the hall, clinging to each other in fear. "Stay here!" he ordered them, then rushed to the courtyard.

"Has your dragon gone mad?" he asked Eragon.

"Even if she really has, I can't blame her. SAPHIRA, CALM DOWN! Do you know what happened?"

"Thorn told me that her egg had been stolen."

"Right. Her first and only egg. SAPHIRA! This message was brought by a raven this morning." He took out a note from the pocket of his tunic.

Murtagh took the note.

 _Two men attempted to steal the white egg last night. One managed to escape with it, but we captured the other. However, before we were able to question him, he killed himself with poison. His last words were "Vengeance is coming. The daughters of Galbatorix are coming."_

 _I fear we need your assistance once again, Shadeslayer._

 _Queen Nasuada_

* * *

 **A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for giving my story a chance! I'm new to this whole fan fiction thing, and a bit nervous. So, reviews would be great to let me know what you think about the first chapter, and the chapters to come (hopefully!). Also, many thanks to my encouraging beta-reader, FalconFate, for her help. Oh, and I found the cover picture on Google, I don't know to whom it belongs, sorry! Anyway, enjoy the story, and don't hesitate to leave a review.**


	2. Chapter 2

It took Eragon a lot of promises in the ancient language that they would rescue her egg and avenge Roran's death to calm Saphira down. Afterwards, he sent Nasuada a message that he would do everything in his power to find the daughters of Galbatorix and anyone who supported them. Unfortunately, neither Eragon nor Murtagh knew anything about the girls. As far as Murtagh remembered, Galbatorix had only one child, a girl named Jezebel. She was only five years old when her father died, and her mother, Freja,was Galbatorix's favorite concubine. Not to mention a very dangerous sorceress and necromancer. He knew Freja was imprisoned after Galbatorix fell, but he had no idea what had happened to Jezebel.

Therefore, Eragon sent a second message to Arya, who probably knew more. Upon receiving Eragon's message, Arya decided to forfeit her throne earlier than planned and came to the Sanctuary immediately. In the meantime, Eragon made sure the training of the young Riders wouldn't be disrupted, while Murtagh cast all the locator spells he knew to find Jezebel or the egg. It was futile. Other times, he went on long hunting trips with Thorn. The elves and Eragon didn't eat meat, and the dwarf Rider was adapting to their diet. Not having received the traditional Rider training, he had no such restrictions. He didn't really care about the meat, though. Hunting was a way to remind himself that he was still free. After all those years in the wilderness, he felt trapped in the company of people.

He and Thorn were returning from another hunting trip when he noticed the young Riders had gathered around a green dragon. Fírnen and Arya were finally here. Thorn landed nearby. The children were asking questions about Fírnen's size, age and abilities. It was understandable, as he was only the third adult dragon they had seen. And they didn't feel comfortable enough to ask Murtagh such questions, although Thorn was much bigger than Fírnen. They had probably heard it was due to Galbatorix's magic, a taboo subject.

 _Unnecessary jealousy, Murtagh. Stop comparing yourself to others_ , Thorn advised.

Eragon let his students satisfy their curiosity, then sent them inside. Only then Saphira did join them. The two dragons appeared to exchange thoughts, as two rings of smoke rose from Fírnen's nostrils when he snorted. The egg might be Saphira's, but Fírnen was the father. He was as furious as her, though admittedly better at controlling himself.

Murtagh and Arya politely greeted each other in the Elven way before Arya turned to Eragon. "First of all, my condolances, Eragon. Roran was legendary warrior and a dear friend. His heroism will always be remembered among my people. May his soul rest in peace."

"Thank you."

"Murtagh and Thorn, it is good to see you join us once again. Now, I assume you would like to hear more about Galbatorix's family?"

They all nodded. Arya gestured them to sit on a marble bench under a large maple tree. Its scarlet leaves were dancing with the gentle evening breeze. The atmosphere here was too peaceful to discuss such disturbing things, but it had to be done.

"Galbatorix only had two daughters, with a dangerous necromancer named Freja," she began.

"Was he married?" Eragon asked.

"No, she was his concubine," Murtagh replied. "But I only remember one girl, Jezebel. I never saw a second child around the court." _And what I remember isn't very pleasant_ , he thought. Thorn agreed, recalling the incident with Shruikan.

"Because the second one was born after Galbatorix died. Most of his concubines were released as they hated him as much as we did, but Freja was imprisoned for her crimes. Jezebel was sent to an orphanage, as no one was willing to adopt her. Soon, in the dungeons, Freja discovered she was pregnant again. Nasuada made sure she gave birth safely to her second daughter, but took her away from the mother right away. This time, there was a couple who wished to adopt the child, but a group of bandits kidnapped her while she was being transported. Then we discovered Jezebel was missing as well."

"Didn't Nasuada do anything about it?" Eragon asked, with a hint of accusation in his voice.

"Of course she did. She sent out a spy to find the girls, but I fear he either died, or joined them, as we haven't heard anything from Ari for years."

"Them?"

"Slavers, torturers, mercenaries, sorcerers Nasuada exiled… Everyone who wants their privilages during Galbatorix's reign back. Any of them might have taken the girls. What I really fear is, someone might have organized these people."

"A resistance group like the Varden, only this time they are against us."

"Who is their leader?" Murtagh hoped it was someone he remembered from his days with the evil king. A familiar enemy would be an advantage.

"We don't know. They clearly use Galbatorix's daughters as a symbol, but they are too young to lead such a force."

"Even if they are in the leadership position, they must be only puppets. We need to know who the real leader is," Eragon said.

"What do they want with the egg?" Saphira asked. "Surely my child wouldn't hatch for one of those vile thieves…"

"My guess is they are planning to force it to hatch, but as far as we know, that's impossible."

…

"WHY DOES IT NOT WORK?"

Jezebel slammed her fists on the table, her beautiful features twisted with fury. Exhausted by the overuse of magic, her body was shaking, yet her eyes were still locked on the only thing that mattered: The white dragon egg on the table.

"Sister…" Claris gently grabbed her forearm.

"What? Unless you're going to suggest something useful, shut up!"

"I suggest you take a rest."

She gave her a death glare. "Get out before I rip off your tongue!"

Uninfluenced by her threat, Claris spoke with a certain authority this time. "This morning I saw Seskel. He didn't seem contented."

Claris finally had her attention. "What?" she gulped.

"When was the last time you bed him, sister? You gambled with our true names in the past, and I will not be enslaved by a Shade because of your recklessness."

A seductress like Jezebel could make an army of Shades, Urgals or even Raz'ac fight for her, she only had to have the stomach to touch them.

Jezebel thought for a moment.

"The egg belongs to us now. It's only a matter of time. Go, Seskel is no fool. You have to keep him happy. I will work on the egg myself for the rest of the night," Claris assured her.

"If it hatches…"

"It will be yours." She sealed her promise with a genuine smile.

Even after all those years, Claris was still surprised by how smoothly she could lie.

Jezebel left the room. Now, alone with the egg, she lowered the barriers of her mind, trying to reach Ari.

 _Master?_

 _Is she gone?_

 _Yes._

So, it was really happening. Claris was going to betray her sister, return the egg to Elves, and surrender to Nasuada.

 _Claris, you know this is the only way_ , Ari reminded. _With a dragon, Jezebel would become unstoppable._

 _I know._

 _There is one other thing you should know… I am not a Galbatorix sympathizer. I never was._

She wasn't shocked that Ari wasn't who he had said he was, but then why had he been protecting Galbatorix's children with his life? He had been with them for more than twenty years, since Claris was a newborn babe. _Who are you, then?_ she asked, calm as always.

 _A spy Queen Nasuada sent to bring you girls back. But I haven't been in contact with her in years. Once we get there, people will recognize me._

It still didn't answer her question. _Why?_

 _That's a subject we can discuss some other day. Now let's focus on the task ahead. Can you hide the egg under your cloak on your way out?_

 _Yes._

The freezing climate of the North would probably come handy for the first time ever. It was so cold that no one would judge you here if you wore a fur cloak indoors.

 _Good. Now we will wait._

Master Ari had withdrawn from her mind. The plan was simple. Take the egg, replace it with an illusion, and leave for Alagaësia before anyone noticed it was gone. She just had to wait, so the guards outside would think she was working.

Half an hour later, Claris thought she heard the egg shake as she watched the snowy scenery out of the window. When she turned her head, the egg was still. Nevertheless, to make sure, she approached and looked closer. Right in front of her eyes, it began shaking again.

Claris cursed silently. Whatever Jezebel had done, it had worked. It rattled for a few seconds, then a crack was heard. And a squeak. Claris quickly cast an isolation spell; she didn't want the guards to hear the noises and she didn't want Jezebel or Seskel to sense its magic. Surely the hatching of a dragon would emit a certain energy.

Now a white baby dragon was inspecting her with big, round, silver eyes. With a little struggle, it completely got free of what once was its shelter. If Claris didn't know what Jezebel was going to do with it, she would say it was cute.

She wanted to consult Ari about their next move, but she had isolated the room. She couldn't contact him without undoing the spell. And she couldn't risk Jezebel or the Shade discovering the dragon.

It had to die. It was a painful decision to make, and the consequences would even be worse. Be it Jezebel, Arya or Nasuada, they would all torture her to death for slaying a baby dragon.

She extended her hand as the innocent creature watched, constantly reminding herself not to be emotional, but logical. Thousands of people, as well as the other dragons, would suffer if this one lived. Once her hand was close enough, its nose touched her palm and stung. Instinctively, Claris withdrew her hand.

No, this was unthinkable. What was worse than a dragon who was forced to hatch for Jezebel was a dragon who willingly chose Claris. Jezebel would kill them both. But maybe, just maybe, it had sensed Claris' intention and protected itself in some curious way. After all, this was a dragon. Maybe it had not marked her. But she knew she had never been that lucky. There was no reason for her to be now. Preparing herself for the worst, she slowly opened her fist.

The mark of the Rider, the legendary gëdwey ignasia, was shining silver on her right palm.

* * *

 **A/N: Dear Hop, thanks for the review! It means a lot to me, and I will definitely continue writing. Yeah, Murtagh and Nasuada will soon meet, under very interesting circumstances, in my opinion.**


	3. Chapter 3

Claris knew what this meant. Dragons didn't hatch for just anyone; they chose their Riders for a reason. They put their faith in them, trusted them with their lives. A Rider could live on if their dragon died, but dragons couldn't live without their Riders. She could still kill it without risking her own life, but no, she wasn't going to betray the trust of such a noble creature.

She reached to its mind, it was too immature to understand words, but surprisingly observant. _I will do everything in my power to be worthy of your judgement, dragon. I am not as honorless as the rest of my family_ , she thought in the ancient language.

She had to think quickly. First, she tried to communicate the hatchling with images. She showed it that they had to leave this castle if they wanted to live and be extremely quiet during the escape. It seemed to understand the idea. When Claris told it to climb on her leg, it did without hesitation. Its sharp talons ruined the fine clothing, but that was the least of her concerns. After quickly casting an illusion to make the remnants of the egg look like it was still intact, she left the room, covering herself with her long, black cloak. The illusion would dissolve when someone touched it, but the guards wouldn't dare, and Jezebel wasn't coming here until the next morning.

 _Claris, where have you been? Why did you isolate yourself?_ She heard Ari's thoughts the moment she stepped outside. But she had to close her mind to everyone in case someone else tried to read her thoughts.

 _Something impossible just happened. Meet me at the stables, I'll explain._

She didn't receive whatever Ari said next. Taking the backstairs, she ran down, hoping to sneak out of the small gate used by the servants. However, she ran into Hadgar, the Head of the Guards, when she unlocked the door.

"Lady Claris, is there something wrong?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered, pretending to look around to make sure no one would hear her. "I sensed an unfamiliar presence around the castle."

"Have you informed Lord Seskel?"

"No," she said simply.

"But, if—"

"Lord Seskel is with my sister tonight. They shall not be disturbed."

There was something in her voice that scared people. Everyone, even the bravest of men, feared the daughters of Galbatorix. Jezebel had thought them that lesson well. It was the only thing Claris was grateful for.

Hadgar gulped, then bowed respectfully. "Of course, my lady."

"Master Ari and I will handle it. Do not alarm anyone else until I say otherwise," she said and walked away.

On her way to the stables, she wanted to check on the dragon, but fearing someone might see it, she didn't. She could feel it clenching on her thigh and blood dripping from where it pierced the skin. It hurt, but she could make it to the rendezvous point.

Ari was already loading their weapons and provisions on the horses in a hurry when she finally arrived. Ari was an old man; he was at least sixty, yet he was as strong and agile as any fine soldier here. Magic was keeping him strong, but Claris knew it still had limits and feared for her master's life. After everything he had done for her, she considered him a father.

"Finally," he muttered when he saw her. "Would you care to tell me what happened? We weren't supposed to leave until midnight."

"You should see it yourself."

His forehead wrinkled with confusion. Normally, Claris was very straightforward and focused, especially during a dangerous mission like this. She hated riddles and unnecessary rhetoric.

She extended her right hand.

He didn't know what to say at first. For a brief second, he looked so proud of her, as if his own child had become a dragon Rider, but then concern prevailed. "You can't bear that mark like a beacon. Wear these." He took out a pair of black, leather gloves from one of the bags he had prepared.

"Where is your dragon?"

Claris took the dragon under her cloak. Her leggings were ruined and she was bleeding. She lowered her mental guards to communicate with it, and immediately sensed a wave of guilt for the injuries it had caused.

Ari looked at the white dragon with admiration. "So, it hatched for you, willingly?"

She shrugged, trying not to remember she had actually thought of killing it.

"I can't say I am surprised. But we have to leave at once."

Was Ari truly expecting her to become a Rider one day? She didn't know he thought so highly of her. Nevertheless, she nodded, then mounted her stallion. Like all the horses in Seskel's castle, he was black. In fact, everything here was either black or red. Those two colors had began to disgust her. As they rode in a slow pace—not to draw attention, they wouldn't gallop until they were far enough—Claris told him about the encounter with Hadgar. Ari wasn't concerned about him much, as Hadgar's brain was probably the weakest part of his body.

Claris healed her scratches with magic as they kept riding, yet the dragon on her lap seemed restless. She tried to subdue it, but for some reason, it never stopped flapping its milky wings. She sensed… hunger?

"Your dragon is hungry," Ari said. "Haven't you fed it yet?"

"There was no time."

"Here." He throw her a few pieces of dried meat. Before she was able to catch, the hungry creature grabbed them in the air. Entertained, Ari threw more. He chuckled as it successfully caught every single piece in the dark.

"There is no way you could be a dragon Rider in the past, right?" Claris asked when she saw how much interest he showed in her dragon. He could be much older than he appeared.

"Me, a Rider? No. But I remember the day Eragon walked into Tronjheim on Saphira. What a sight it was! And now, I am witnessing another miracle."

"Do you know Eragon?" Ari surely had an interesting past.

"Not personally, no. But I was among the crowd on that day."

"So, you were a member of the Varden?"

"I was, indeed."

"Are you going to tell me why you have lost contact with Queen Nasuada?"

"Maybe in the morning. Right now, we have to go as fast as we can."

And so they did. They galloped non-stop until the dawn broke, until the horses could run no more. They stopped when they came across a small lake, so that the horses could eat and drink. Besides, they needed to eat, too. But they weren't going to sleep at all for the next few days. Jezebel had surely gone mad by now. The soldiers had to be behind them.

While Ari cooked, Claris melted a part of the frozen lake with magic to provide the horses with water and released the dragon so it could enjoy the nature. Fearing it might hurt itself, she always kept an eye on it, though. In the sunlight, its white scales became iridescent, reflecting hundreds of faint rainbows, like a precious gem. It was impossible to camouflage its shiny body even on this endless ground covered with thick snow. Claris had tried to learn its gender, but it was still too young the understand the concept. Without knowing the gender, she couldn't name her dragon.

Ari handed her a bowl, apparently ready to talk about his real identity. Claris warned the dragon with an image before her focus shifted on him. _Don't stray too far._

"I was a nobleman," he began in the ancient language, as he always did when he spoke about something important. "My brother had sworn loyalty to Galbatorix, so had I, along with him. I wasn't interested in politics, or heroism. As a scholar, my only passion was knowledge and magic, I was content as long as Galbatorix provided me the environment to pursue it. My wife, Lilah, shared the same interests. We had two sons. Strong, fearless lads, dreaming to become legendary warriors unlike their father… They joined Galbatorix's army once they came of age. They didn't care what, or whom they fought for. At that time, the King's hatred for Urgals hadn't subsided yet, do you remember the reason?"

"They had killed his first dragon, Jarnunvösk," she said proudly, showing that she still remembered Ari's history lessons well.

"Exactly. He kept sending troops to kill every one of them, my sons were among those soldiers. One day, they left, and never came back…"

"I'm sorry."

"The pain was too much for Lilah, she took her own life shortly after. I was all alone in the world, had nothing left to lose… I joined the Varden with the help of a friend, donated my fortune to their cause, and learned to fight. Before that, I couldn't even hold a sword properly, ha! I fought until the day Galbatorix died."

Claris couldn't imagine Ari as someone who didn't know how to fight, she had known him as an incredible swordsman all her life. But the Empire had no shortage of fine swordsmen. He must have been chosen for a different reason. "Why did Nasuada choose you to fetch us?"

"Because no one in the Empire knew I joined the Varden. You must understand, I was considered an eccentric, I could just say I lived in the woods to forget the pain of my family's death, gave away my fortune to the poor, or something like that. Galbatorix's sympathizers would believe me."

"But you didn't take us back to the Queen."

Ari sighed thoughtfully. "Because I feared. I feared people hadn't learned their lesson."

"What lesson?"

"Do you remember what I told you about Murtagh?"

"Morzan's son, Eragon's half-brother, Galbatorix's champion. Against his will, though. He was forced to serve him," she recited proudly, although she was ashamed of her father's atrocities.

Ari smiled painfully. "You have excellent memory, Claris, but tell me, what lessons have you learned from his story?"

"Never give anyone your true name?" She shivered. Jezebel knew her true name. More importantly, so did Seskel.

"That is a lesson, but you miss my point. Poor boy," Ari sighed. "We could have saved him."

"No, you couldn't. He was enslaved by Galbatorix. He knew his true name."

"But all the hatred and pain inside him made things much easier for Galbatorix. We planted the seeds of darkness in Murtagh with our prejudice and ignorance. I didn't want the same thing to happen to you and Jezebel."

"Yet it happened to Jezebel," she muttered. "Her actions prove what you call 'prejudice' right."

"But yours prove it wrong." He gestured at the dragon, who was trying to hunt a bunch of sparrows. "And remember, Jezebel started out this quest to protect her little sister from further harm, not with the intention of becoming an evil queen."

"I'm not so sure."

"Well, at least now you know who I really am." He stood up. "Let's move on."

"Where are we going?" she asked as she picked up the dragon. "We are not on the road to Du Weldenvarden as we spoke before."

"The best thing about you becoming a Rider, is that you now have political immunity. If we use it wisely, you might not suffer the consequences of Jezebel's doings. Going directly to a king or queen will not be wise. Therefore we are going to find Eragon."

"Eragon? Do you even know where he is?"

"No, but I am hoping to discover." With a swift jump, Ari mounted on his horse. "We should go further in the south."

The white dragon nestled on its Rider's lap again. It was small and fragile, but Claris knew one day it would turn into a magnificient beast. Until then, Claris had to protect her. For such a precious companionship, there was nothing she wouldn't do.

 _Did you hear that, little one?_ she thought as they left the miles behind. _We are going to see your mother._

* * *

 **A/N: stormrunner74, thanks for the review! So, I'm going on a vacation today and didn't have the chance to get this chapter edited by my beta. Sorry about any possible grammar mistakes, I'm not a native English speaker. I tried to edit it as best as I could.**


	4. Chapter 4

"We're lost," Claris sighed.

Ari squinted, his eyes focused on something in the distance. "No, we are not. It should be at the end of this path."

"You told me you didn't know where Eragon lived."

"That's right. I don't know where he lives, because I've never seen it myself. But you're forgetting that I'm a spy."

"We don't even know how long this path goes, let alone where it leads!"

"You're worrying too much, lass. Now I want you to go there," he pointed at a clearing on the left, "and set up a camp."

"What about you?"

"It will be better if I talk to Eragon myself first. I trust his wisdom, but I don't know how many apprentices he has at this point. Other Riders, and their dragons, of course, might not like it when they discover your parentage."

"I _am_ a Rider!" she snapped. "They can't just kill me right on sight because Galbatorix was my father!"

"Hush!" He scolded her.

Realizing her mistake, Claris bowed her head. "Forgive me, Master. I know I've disappointed you during this journey."

Ari smiled. Claris had grown unnaturally aggressive and tense over the last week, but he could understand why.

"You have been prepared to sacrifice yourself for the good of this realm Claris, but now fate asks you to carry the burden of a life instead. A dragon's life. This was unexpected. Thus, I understand your confusion, my child."

She silently agreed.

"Now do as I told. I will soon return for you. It might take a couple of days, though."

"What if Seskel's men find me?"

"Then leave everything and follow this path with your dragon. You will be bringing them to Eragon's doorstep, but this is the only way."

After Ari left, Claris set up the camp as the white dragon followed her around. It was a week old now and could fly for short periods of time, but wasn't ready to soar in the sky. Claris could understand that it preferred the warm forest to the Northern tundra. It hadn't said a word yet and they only communicated through images. Ari, who used to read countless books about dragons in his youth, had assured her that it was completely normal. She still felt guilty about having tried to kill it, though, fearing she might have caused a trauma that affected its growing process in a negative way.

 _Your mother_ , she thought. She hadn't seen Saphira, but she pictured a blue dragon in her mind. _We are looking for your mother. Can you help us?_

Not much was known about the familial bonds between dragons, according to Ari, but Claris hoped they shared a connection with their children, so that Saphira could know they were here.

No reply came from the dragon, making Claris feel stupid.

The night fell, and the crescent moon rose in the sky. Ari hadn't returned yet. She hoped he was just having a long conversation with Eragon. But there was no way she could sleep before seeing him return safe and sound, so she didn't even try. Unlike her, the dragon curled up next to Claris and fell into a deep slumber.

The peaceful silence of the forest was broken by the horses. Claris could hear them approaching fast, and there were too many of them. This couldn't be Ari. She grabbed the dragon—the noises had awakened it as well—and her sword before mounting the stallion. She had to leave the rest of her stuff behind. But before she was able to get out of the clearing, at least fifty men surrounded her. Seskel's soldiers.

Claris attempted to put her cloak on her dragon to hide it, but it was useless. They had already seen it.

 _Go_ , she commanded. _Fly away_. They would probably never see each other again, but at least it would be safe from Jezebel's wrath. And Ari, too, if he hadn't already been captured. As long as the two were safe, Claris was ready for everything Jezebel and Seskel could do to her.

The dragon refused to leave. They were stubborn creatures, even in their youth. She tried a different approach. _You have to go and find help, or we will both die here!_ By the time it returned, she would be gone, of course, but it didn't need to know that.

This time, it obeyed.

"It's getting away!" one of the men yelled and placed an arrow on his bow.

 _Brisingr!_

Before he was able to shoot it, the archer caught on fire and the golden flames killed him instantly.

"She's a witch, you fools! Be careful!" Hadgar said.

Claris was aware of the fact that she had always been a powerful sorceress, and was even more powerful now that she was a Rider. Yet, she wasn't strong enough to kill fifty men with magic. She had released her last spell with such a rage, fearing for her dragon's life, that it had consumed most of her energy. It was a stupid thing to do, especially with an easy spell like this, but she didn't have time to think. She was lucky that no other master of magic like the Shade or Jezebel was with these oafs to sense her weakness.

Now that her dragon was gone, she could focus. As long as she was on the horseback and held a sword, she still had an advantage. She could try to fight her way out of the circle. At least it was better than surrendering without giving them a fight first.

The men waited, fearing what spell she could cast next, but closed around her when she rushed forward and tried to break the circle. It was pointless. Claris fell from the horse, and strong arms pinned her on the ground immediately. Someone pushed her sword away. Another one gagged her mouth to prevent her from using magic. _Fools_ , she though. Magic could be used without words, although she needed her full strength for that. She could recover on their way back and catch them off guard.

"Well, well." Hadgar stepped forward. He was clearly not pleased about having been fooled by her before. "I should have known." He squatted down, grabbing a handful of her blonde hair, and yanked her head in a painful way. "Do you know how many times Lord Seskel flogged me for my stupidity? And after he is done with you, I'll take you for myself. I'll skin you alive, and bathe you in Seithr oil. Then—"

His words were interrupted by wild roars coming from above. He stood up, looked around in fear to see where the noises were coming from.

"Dragons!" a man screamed in terror.

They all ran back to their horses. Hadgar dragged her with him, but she set herself free from his grasp with a strong kick, then crawled to where her sword was lying. No one tried to stop her, as the approaching thuds of wings terrorized them. The sound was actually very soft, like velvet, but any man who had ever heard about dragons would know better.

Before Seskel's men were able to ride away, three dragons surrounded them: One blue, one green and one red, if Claris could see correctly in the dim light of the men's torches. They had their saddles on, but no Rider seemed to be around. Some men attempted to slip away, but they were all dead before Claris was able to join the fight. The remaining of the horses ran off.

A dreadful silence covered the clearing like a blanket. Not even the animals made a sound. They should have gone by now, no creature would dare to be near a dragon, not to mention there were three of them now.

"Saphira?" Claris whispered. They hadn't touched her yet, but she wasn't sure if they were friendly.

They turned to look at her, the enemy blood still dripping from their jaws. She gulped, trying to guess who the other ones were. "Fírnen? And Thorn?" she asked politely. From Ari's descriptions, they seemed old enough to be the Elders.

The other two remained still, but Saphira approached her. She was looking directly into Claris' honey-colored eyes, which both scared and amazed her at the same time.

"You have been educated well," Saphira commented.

"I'm a Rider," she stated, taking out her gloves to show Saphira her gëdwey ignasia.

"Yes, you are my daughter's Rider."

Well, at least now she knew her dragon was a female.

Saphira hummed softly. There was a rustle in the trees in response. Only then, Claris realized her dragon had been watching them this entire time from an oak tree nearby. She flew off, Claris thought she would go to Saphira at first, but she came to her. Claris had to extend her both arms to make sure she landed safely. She was heavier than she looked, and her talons was too sharp to carry her on one hand or shoulder.

"How did you find me?" Claris asked.

"We were hunting in the forest when my daughter found us. She showed me that you were in grave danger."

"Thank you all. You saved my life. And hers." The white dragon squeaked happily.

"What is your name, Rider?"

"Claris," she replied, hoping they wouldn't recognize who she was. If they didn't know her name, then they couldn't have spoken with Ari.

"Claris," Saphira repeated. "Gather your belongings. We will take you to our Sanctuary."

"I would be honored, Saphira Bjartskular, but first I must ask: Have you seen my master, Ari?"

"No. But I know him from my daughter's memories."

"He was on his way to find Eragon and wished to speak with him first before he introduced me. I would like to know if he is safe."

"Hmm." There was suspicion in her voice, she was probably wondering why her master wanted to speak with Eragon first before introducing her. "We are still too far from the Sanctuary, but I can ask Eragon myself once we get closer. Maybe he is there right now."

"Thank you." She quickly gathered her things, but then realized she didn't know how to go to the Sanctuary. Her horse had been killed—she didn't feel any attachment to him anyway, he was Seskel's property—and her dragon was too young to ride. Would these Elders allow her to ride one of them? Even if they did, was she ready?

"What?" Saphira asked when she saw her hesitate.

"I am just… I am not sure how I will get there. My horse was killed."

Saphira chuckled, making Claris slightly jump in fear. "I can take you there, of course, if my child hasn't chosen a coward as her Rider?"

Claris bit her lips angrily. After releasing fear into people's hearts with Jezebel for years, now she was the one who was afraid.

"No," she defied her. "She hasn't chosen a coward."

"Good." Saphira lowered her head to let Claris climb on her saddle. Her daughter leaned against Claris' belly after she was settled.

"Are you ready?" Saphira asked before rising into the air.

"I am," Claris answered, trying to hide her nervousness. Surely, this would be different than riding a horse. She wasn't afraid of heights, but she had always assumed that she would receive some training from Eragon before an actual flight.

Upon sensing her concerns, the white dragon sent her some images about the joy of flying. Claris felt ashamed at first, she never revealed her fears to others. But it was going to change now, it had to. The Rider and the dragon, they shared everything. Claris held onto Saphira's saddle tightly with one hand, and stroked her dragon's smooth scales to calm herself down with the other as they all rose in the sky.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for the nice reviews guys, and I'm sorry I was gone for the last couple of weeks. But I'm back, and I will update more often.**


	5. Chapter 5

Murtagh was busy making arrowheads in his room when Thorn reached to his mind on his way back home to tell him about the encounter with the white hatchling and the new Rider. He had no doubt that Eragon and Arya were getting the same news as well from their dragons. Thorn told him everything that happened in the forest.

" _Well, that was unexpected_ ," he commented.

It was unexpected, indeed. First, someone had stolen Saphira's egg in the name of Galbatorix's daughters, claiming to avenge the oath-breaker. While they were trying to locate it by casting every locator spell they knew—Murtagh had even secretly used dark magic; sometimes you had to fight fire with fire—the lost egg had hatched for this stranger, Claris. Her situation was going to raise suspicions. Who was she? How had she come across with something that had been hidden so well? What was her connection with Galbatorix's daughters?

Murtagh carefully analysed every image he received. The white dragon couldn't be older than a week. Her behaviors indicated that she was very fond of her Rider. Claris, like Saphira had said, had apparently been educated well, at least in the history of the Riders. She had recognized the three dragons the moment she had seen them, and she was close to the Sanctuary, which meant she knew where Eragon lived. Very few people could have come this close. She wore simple, but fine traveling clothes and moved gracefully, like a noble lady of the court. He never failed to recognize such manners in people. And what about the men who were hunting her down? They bore no emblem nor a banner; nothing to help him recognize whom they served.

 _"You could have left at least one of them alive for interrogation,"_ he complained.

 _"We were hungry, and those men were delicious. What could we do?"_ Thorn chuckled. His spirits were high. He shared the same suspicions with Murtagh, but his relief overshadowed those concerns. Dragons didn't want to fight their own kind anymore. They had feared Saphira's daughter would be the next Shruikan.

With an unspoken agreement, Eragon, Arya and Murtagh gathered at the front gates to meet the dragons and the newest members of the Order. Arya looked troubled.

"There is something I must share with you," she began. "This new Rider says her name is Claris. I have seen the same name mentioned before, in Ari's last letter…"

The men looked at her curiously. "He said Galbatorix's youngest daughter had been named Claris by her elder sister," she went on.

In the dark sky, a terrible roar was heard. Saphira. Her mind must have been in touch with Eragon's.

Eragon tried to make sense of these words for a moment. "Does that mean they found a way to hatch the egg by force?" he finally asked.

"I doubt it," Murtagh said. "If that was the case, why would she come here? Still, there are many questions she has to answer before any of us can start trusting her."

Soon, the dragons appeared in the dark of the night, they could spot Claris dangling on Saphira's back. The white dragon had been taken from her; Fírnen was holding her protectively in his claw, though she was aware that something was wrong and struggling to get free.

"Thief! Liar! Murderer!" Saphira bellowed and tossed Claris off of her back. Had she not been her daughter's Rider, she would have been long dead by now.

"Saphira!" Eragon exclaimed to catch her attention and apparently exchanged thoughts with her. Whatever he said, it helped her calm down a little. At least the smoke rising from her nostrils ceased.

Claris rose from where she had fallen, showing no sign of fear or pain, and faced the threat like a brave queen would. Murtagh was right, she definitely had been raised as royalty. It made sense; if the Galbatorix sympathizers wanted to see his heirs on the throne, first they had to make them believe the throne was their birthright. Claris and Jezebel must have been spoiled rotten and led to think they were princesses their whole lives.

"Do you speak the ancient language?" Eragon asked.

"I am ready to swear any oath you wish me to take, by the words of your choice," she replied in the ancient language.

Arya's eyes narrowed. Her reply meant that she was aware of the flexibility of the language. Elves were the masters when it came to the manipulation of the words and twisting the meanings, so Arya decided to run the interrogation herself.

"Who are you?" she began.

"I am Claris, the youngest child of the king Galbatorix and his concubine, Freja."

"How many siblings do you have?"

"I have one sister."

"What is her name?"

"Jezebel."

"Do you have any brothers?"

"No."

"Did you steal the white dragon egg?"

"Yes."

"Did you force it to hatch?"

"No."

"Did your sister force it to hatch?"

"Yes."

"Did she succeed?"

"No."

"Did Saphira and Fírnen's daughter choose you as her Rider willingly?"

"Yes."

"Why did you steal the egg in the first place?"

"It was meant to hatch for Jezebel. I pretended to support her decision when she gave the order, therefore I was involved in the crime. Master Ari and I were intended to take it to the Elves in Du Weldenvarden, then I was going to surrender to Queen Nasuada."

"Why?"

"For protection. My sister and the Shade she is working with would kill me after my betrayal. The Queen would have imprisoned me for my crimes, but at least I would be safe from Jezebel's wrath."

"No, why did you betray your sister?"

"For the good of this realm. Jezebel is insane and already unnaturally powerful. With a dragon, she would be worse than our father."

"So, you pose no threat to Alagaësia?"

"No, I pose no threat to any of you or your friends."

"Why did you come here? And how do you know where the Sanctuary is?"

"I didn't know. Master Ari led us here."

"The men who wanted to take you... Who were they?"

"They serve the Shade."

"Are there other crimes you have committed?" Murtagh suddenly asked, catching an important detail in the conversation.

"I let my sister kill the innocent and I spilled innocent blood myself," she admitted.

Eragon remembered something. "What about my cousin, Roran? Did you know he was going to be assasinated?" He didn't need to ask if she and Jezebel were responsible for his death. He knew they were.

"Yes, I did. I apologize to you with my whole heart and I am not expecting your forgiveness. I only want you to know that I had to make a choice between Roran's life and Saphira's egg. I could have stopped the assasination, but if I had, I would have revealed my true intentions earlier and wouldn't have been able to save the egg."

"Are the other eggs in danger?"

"They could be."

Eragon pursed his lips, disturbed. The eggs couldn't be hidden from the public, they had to be in contact with other people so the dragons could find their Riders. They had already waited long enough during Galbatorix's reign. But for now, it looked like keeping them safe was the priority, at least until they stopped Jezebel and the new Shade.

"Who is this Shade Jezebel is working with?" he asked.

"His name is Seskel. Very little is known about him, he has a castle far in the North, no one knows where his fortune comes from, or why he is helping us. Jezebel is not only a sorceress, she is also a seductress and she thinks she controls him, but I don't believe that. I believe Seskel lets her think she is in control. Other than that, I don't know why he saved us in the past, or why he has kept us with him since then."

"Saved you? From whom?"

"I was too young to remember, but Jezebel says the slavers were going to sell us to one of the nomadic tribes. Brutal savages. We would have been dead in a few weeks in their hands."

"Weren't the Galbatorix sympathizers supposed to protect you?"

"Smypathizers?" she scoffed. "Galbatorix didn't have any sympathizers. I thought my master was the only person I knew who supported him, but even he turned out to be a spy for Nasuada." She studied them for a moment. "No, our kidnappers only wanted to make some fortune. Or did you think slavery ended in the rest of the world when you abolished it in Alagaësia? Royal blood was worth a lot of gold. Master Ari almost died trying to prevent the trade from happening. That was when Seskel came to our rescue. At least that's what I'm told. Over the years, his relationship with my sister... _changed_."

"Did Ari also tell you why he lost contact with us?" Arya asked.

"He said he thought we wouldn't be any safer in Alagaësia."

There was a moment of silence. Claris had spoken with confidence and dignity, without using any ambiguous expressions. They still had a lot to get from her, but for now, what she said was enough.

"We believe you." With these words, Eragon ended the interrogation.

But apparently, for Claris, the conversation was far from over. "I was completely honest to you. Unlike your dragon was to me."

"Have a care how you speak of Saphira," Eragon warned.

She had openly accused a dragon of being a liar. A legendary dragoness, known for her temper. She was either very brave, or very stupid.

Saphira lowered her head and looked directly into her eyes threateningly, making sure that she would see her sharp teeth as well. "What exactly are you accusing me of, thief? The only reason I have spared your wicked life is my daughter. Do not test my patience."

Even if she was scared, she hid it well. "You said my master could be here. But this place is protected by magic, isn't it? It is invisible to anyone who is not a Rider."

"Yes. I lied. I had to bring you here in one piece, and I didn't trust you completely even when I didn't know who you really are."

"You are good," Eragon praised her. "Was it Ari who taught you magic?"

"I learned everything I know from him. Magic, history, swordsmanship… Also benevolence and honor. He is the only reason I'm not like my sister today. That's why you have to let me go now. He didn't know about the spell that protects this place. He is probably lost and confused, I have to find him."

"We can't let you go," Eragon spoke with a certain authority.

Claris prepared to draw her sword.

"Do not embarrass yourself. You're outnumbered and outmatched. Besides, you're no prisoner here. It is too late to start a search. If your master is as wise as you said, he must have found a shelter by now. We know the area better than you, we will look for him in the morning. You have my word."

Claris released her hand from the grip of her sword.

"We will find you a room. Come with me," Arya said.

"Our child comes with us," Fírnen stated. "We don't trust Claris with her yet."

Arya nodded. Under normal circumstances, it was unacceptable to separate a dragon from their Rider, but tonight an exception was inevitable. And if Claris didn't prove herself trustworthy, they would eventually have to find a way to severe the bond between them without hurting the young dragon. Before the history repeated itself. Fírnen silently thanked Arya for her understanding.

...

Sleep was hard to come by that night for everyone, but especially for Murtagh. He didn't know this man, Ari, but the way Claris had spoken of him had reminded Murtagh of someone he deeply cared for. His own master, Tornac.

 _I learned everything I know from him. Magic, history, swordsmanship… Also benevolence and honor. He is the only reason I'm not like my sister today._

This world needed people like Tornac and Ari. Besides, he was feeling a bit guilty for assuming Claris was just a spoiled little girl. She was cultured, proud, and clearly hiding something from them; but she knew her place. He had to give her that. Eragon and Arya was asleep. Disturbing them right now would be an inconsiderate act. But would he be challenging their authority if he went out there without informing them first? He tossed and turned in bed for hours.

" _Murtagh…"_ Thorn finally grumbled as the dawn broke.

 _"Yes?"_

 _"Let's go find Ari, shall we?"_

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys! I know it's been too long, and I had promised more frequent updates. Again, I'm posting a not beta-ed chapter because I don't want you to think I've abandoned this story. I'm really sorry about that. Anyway, enjoy and please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

Claris had thought she knew the world. She had thought anywhere in Alagaësia would be better than Seskel's castle. She couldn't have been more wrong. Here she was, trapped in the Riders' Sanctuary, by the very people she was hoping to join. She wasn't expecting to be good friends with them right away, of course, but at least they could have appreciated her cooperation a bit.

Arya had given her a small, but clean room with a comfortable bed. The door wasn't locked, but Claris wasn't sure if she was allowed to walk around the castle freely. So, she stayed put. It would be unwise to test the limits of their tolerance. Instead of waiting for Eragon to keep his promise on searching for Ari in the morning, she tried scrying him. There was nothing. Either he was doing it on purpose, to hide from the Shade's gaze, or… Claris didn't even want to think about the other possibility.

As the sun rose in the East, the enormous red dragon, Thorn, appeared in the rose-colored sky with Murtagh on his back. She watched him fly away. Had Eragon assigned Murtagh to look for Ari, or were they up at this early hour for some other reason? Whatever it was, Claris was sure of one thing: She didn't trust Murtagh to find Ari. Of the three Riders, Murtagh was the one who scared her the most. Everything about him screamed danger, and because of his past, he would never be truly a part of the Riders' legacy. It meant that he wasn't burdened with the same moral obligations as Eragon. If Murtagh was still holding grudge against what Galbatorix had done to him, there was nothing that stopped him from taking it out on her. She would try his best to avoid him while staying here. Even the most daring fools wouldn't want to make an enemy out of Morzan's son.

Hours passed. No one came to speak with her, except when the dwarf girl brought some food. Claris tried scrying Ari several times, but the result was the same. Finally, she wrote him a note, that she had been brought to the Sanctuary, but it was invisible to anyone who wasn't a Rider, and asked him to send a sign if he was alright. She whispered the words to send the note—wherever he was, it would find him—and waited for a reply.

More hours passed. The sun disappeared behind the forest. There was still no word from Ari. She paced up and down in the room, like a caged animal. She was all alone in the world, had no one to turn to. She spotted Murtagh and Thorn, returning to the castle, but Ari wasn't with them. Soon after, someone softly knocked on her door.

Claris opened the door, only to find Murtagh standing in the doorway. "Good evening, Claris," he said. His voice was calm, but sad, as if he was grieving.

"Good evening."

"There is something you need to see. Follow me."

"Is it Ari?" she asked, standing as tall as she could, but already feeling suffocated by some invisible weight on her chest. What had he found? It couldn't have been his body, otherwise she would have seen it. But she had been paralysed, her mouth wouldn't open to ask.

He nodded. "Come with me," he softly said. After that reply, she knew. She knew she had lost Ari, the only father she had, for good. No other words needed to be spoken between them.

Murtagh took her to a room, where Eragon and Arya had already been waiting. It looked like a meeting hall, for it was large enough to hold about a dozen of Riders and their dragons at the same. There was a big, crescent-shaped marble table in the middle. The walls were covered with golden reliefs depicting the history of the Dragon Riders.

On the table, there was a black sack, a sword and a black cloak. Claris examined the sword that bore the sigil of Ari's family. It was his sword. Murtagh took out something from his pocket.

"I found this on him."

It was the note Claris had sent Ari.

"Where is his body?"

Upon hearing her question, everyone looked at each other, unsure what to do. Claris waited patiently. Finally, Eragon stepped forward and untied the sack. It was filled with bones. Human bones.

"Murtagh found his remains," he explained.

"The bones had been carefully rearranged and left next to his belongings. Whoever did this, they wanted to send a message," Murtagh said.

"I have seen this before, it is—"

"The Ra'zac, I know." Claris interrupted Eragon. She knew it. She knew this would happen the moment Ari decided to leave. Yet, she had naively hoped for a miracle. He was the most obvious target for Jezebel. After all, there was no one else she cared for. There was her dragon, of course, but Jezebel wanted the dragon for herself. She wouldn't harm her, leaving Ari completely exposed to her wrath.

"I thought they were gone," Eragon said.

"They are still roaming in the North, some live with Seskel himself."

"We will give him a proper burial," Arya said. "Ari was an honorable member of the Varden and his services will not be forgotten."

"This could have been avoided. I warned you." She had just lost the only real family and friend she had, yet somehow all she felt was an emotional numbness. She was breathing, moving, and speaking as if nothing had happened. She wondered when the gravity of the fact would truly strike her, and what would become of her then.

"We have made a grave mistake that cost a good man's life, Claris. But here is your chance to prove your worth. You can, by showing that you find forgiveness in your heart for us," Eragon apologized.

"Forgive you? I wasn't the one who sacrificed my life to find you. You disappointed _him_. Not me. My quarrel is with Jezebel, who gave the order. I will kill her, the Ra'zac, and Seskel, to avenge my master."

"Let us help, then."

"No. I don't trust you."

"I am not going to let you leave without completing your training. You have responsibilities, not to us, maybe, but to your dragon. You are going to get her killed during this foolish quest for vengeance of yours. We cannot allow that."

Claris thought for a moment. Eragon was right. Even if she left now, she wasn't powerful enough to defeat Seskel, Jezebel and the Ra'zac alone. She would only get her dragon killed. And she had no right to do that.

"Fine," she finally said. "But first, I ask for permission to go to Urû'baen and bury Ari next to his wife. He deserves that much."

Eragon looked at Arya. "She is right, Ari's wife is buried in Ilirea," she confirmed.

"As you wish. But first, I need to inform Nasuada. You need her permission to enter the city, not mine."

"Of course."

That night, Claris cried herself to sleep, and still woke up before anyone else next morning.

…

Another week passed. The Elders began to trust Claris. Eragon sent a message to Queen Nasuada. They knew there were spies who could use magic in the city, so the message was sent with a raven, to avoid drawing any unnecessary attention. She was still waiting to snap out of her numbness, to be devastated by her grief. So one morning she got out and walked around the castle, hoping to trigger some emotions. This part of the realm was stunning, but perhaps Alagaësia was even more beautiful. She had never seen the land she had been born. She wondered if Ari had ever been homesick. He could have spent his days as an old man peacefully, with his books, under Queen Nasuada's rule, yet he had chosen to protect Claris with his life, as a stranger in a strange land of everlasting darkness, danger, and frost. His demise was so sudden and untimely, she still had too many questions to ask, too many lessons to learn. All she had left was her dragon now, and she wasn't even allowed to speak with her.

She stood on the edge of a cliff looking down on the emerald scenery below.

 _"Claris?"_

She turned around, the white dragon was behind her.

 _"Claris?"_ she repeated.

 _"Are you even allowed to be here, with me?"_ she asked. She didn't want to face Saphira's wrath again anytime soon.

 _"They trust you now. I made them,"_ she said proudly.

 _"Well, thanks."_ Claris sat down and gestured her to come. The hatchling jumped on her lap.

 _"I missed you. You are all I have now."_

 _"I missed you, too. I liked Ari. One day we will avenge him."_

 _"No. I know I swore an oath, but now I can think more clearly. I don't want revenge if it means putting your life in danger."_

 _"You know I will not stay in this size forever, right?"_

Claris chuckled, the young dragon was trying to distract her from her pain. _"Only one week with your parents, and look at you."_

 _"They want you to give me a name. They suggested me a few, but I want to decide with you."_

 _"Alright, what names did they suggest?"_

She listed a couple of names, none of which she liked. Then Claris tried to remember the dragon names Ari had told her, but she didn't like them either. She wanted something unique. She was proud of her appearance—white dragons were very rare, according to what Saphira had told her daughter—and she wanted a name that reflected her appearance. Claris agreed, as she stroked her shiny, nacre-like scales.

 _"How about Nacara?"_ Claris asked.

She hummed with satisfaction. _"Perfect."_

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys! Another chapter here. I hope you are still enjoying this. Please let me know what you think. I am busy with school, like most people, but still trying to make time for writing. Your reviews mean a lot to me.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

"What am I supposed to do now, Murtagh?"

Murtagh looked at the note again, and understood Eragon's dilemma perfectly. Nasuada's reply, demanding Claris to be handed over at once and reminding him of his oaths. Years ago, Eragon had sworn fealty to her.

"Do you now understand why I left Alagaësia? I had made too many promises…"

"You had to. To stop Galbatorix, you needed people's support."

"Aye. But the question remains: What am I supposed to do now?"

"Turn Claris in. Nasuada is a sensible woman. Once she understands Claris is not a threat, she won't hold her prisoner. And I don't think she will imprison Nacara along with her."

"We can't count on a possibility. Nacara will be no different than a prisoner while her Rider is one. You know that. Saphira will never allow it. Neither can I. But I cannot defy Nasuada's will either. I really don't know what to do."

"Nasuada just wants to protect her people."

"Look, I understand her reasons, I really do. She doesn't want to take any risks, especially with Galbatorix's kin. No one can blame her. But a young dragon is involved in this case, and there is also the risk that Nacara might choose the wrong side if she grows up seeing her Rider treated unjustly. The last thing we need is another corrupted dragon."

"Can't Saphira explain her the situation?"

"Saphira can't always be there for her."

In his mind, Murtagh heard Thorn sigh thoughtfully. It wasn't out of desperation, though. He had a solution. He only sighed because he knew Murtagh would never agree to do it.

 _"Thorn, do you realize what do you want from me? You want me to defy the woman I deeply care about…"_

 _"I know, my friend. But I can't see any other way to resolve this conflict. Eragon is sworn to serve Nasuada. You are not. I already spoke to Saphira and Fírnen; they agreed."_

 _"Can't Arya do it?"_

 _"She might not be the queen of the Elves anymore, but she is still one of them. That might even start a war between the elves and humans. Besides, she lives under the same roof with Eragon, she will have to leave this place if she takes Claris as her apprentice."_

Thorn was right, Murtagh knew it. Eragon had finally found happiness, he couldn't take that away from him now.

"There is a way…"

"Right, Saphira told me. But Murtagh, if you take her as your pupil, I will have to ask you to leave."

"I was going to leave anyway," he said dryly. "At least I'm saving you from a serious trouble by doing this."

"I know what this means to you, brother. What going against _her_ means to you."

He ignored Eragon's comment. "Well, I guess I should have a word with my new student," he said.

Eragon was feeling terribly guilty about this. Everytime a conflict arose, it was Murtagh who had to make a sacrifice.

…

Murtagh found Claris in the courtyard, watching Nacara fly in the distance. He hadn't seen her much for the last couple of days, since he found Ari's remains. They had arranged a temporary tomb in the crypts, but it seemed like they would never be able to take him to Ilirea now.

They greeted each other politely, Murtagh didn't want her to understand how difficult it was for him to take this responsibility. He didn't want her to sense his weakness for Nasuada, but also he didn't want her to feel guilty about the crisis she unintentionally started. He didn't want to make her feel like she owed him a debt. She was a nice, easy-going girl, whose only fault was having been born to wrong parents. Just like himself.

Murtagh explained the situation to her as briefly as possible, that Nasuada wanted her to be turned over and Eragon was obliged to do so. The only way to free him from this obligation was Claris leaving the Sancuary with Murtagh as his student.

Claris agreed. They were going to leave tomorrow morning.

"I know you are not doing this for me, but still… Thank you for saving me from a lifetime of imprisonment. I don't deserve it, not after letting Roran die."

"Eragon has already forgiven you, he understands your reasons."

"What about _you_?"

"Why would you need my forgiveness?"

"He was your cousin, too," she said, stating a fact that everyone, even Murtagh had overlooked. He didn't even know what to say.

…

That night, Murtagh packed his things. He didn't feel bad about his departure, he never felt like he belonged here anyway. On the contrary, he couldn't wait to leave. He would prefer to be alone with Thorn, of course, but as long as Claris respected his privacy, they would be fine. Thorn, on the other hand, was excited about their first apprentices. He had already started planning the best training routine for Nacara. He suggested Murtagh to do the same about Claris. To be honest, Murtagh had no idea what to do with her. She was already a powerful sorceress, but she mostly used dark magic, so he was reluctant to teach her the secrets of the Ancient Language. She was a decent swordswoman, her master had thought her everything he knew, but a Rider was supposed to be much better. They needed to work on that. She also had said she couldn't use a bow because her aiming was terrible. Her archery needed to be improved.

The next morning, he found Nacara at the gates outside with Thorn, but she said Claris was in the crypts. She was saying goodbye to Ari. Murtagh had never seen her cry for him, not a single tear, or even heard her voice crack. Today she was no different. She was praying, her eyes closed. She stopped when she heard his footsteps behind.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to visit him one last time, for I will probably never be allowed to come here again."

"Probably. But we are still taking his remains to Ilirea."

Damn. He wasn't planning to make such a promise. He wasn't even thinking about it at all. But somehow, the words had escaped from his mouth.

Claris was shocked as well. "What? I thought Queen Nasuada—"

There was no going back now. He had made a promise to her, as her new master. "Nasuada is an old friend of mine. I can convince her to make a temporary exception." He wasn't sure if he could succeed, but he had to try.

Claris took the wooden box that held Ari's bones, with a grateful smile on her face. "Shall we?"

Eragon, Arya, Saphira and Fírnen were waiting at the front gates to bid them farewell. The young Riders were still asleep, it was still too early. It was deliberately scheduled that way; Eragon didn't want them to ask too many questions about their departure. He wasn't sure he could answer them honestly. It had already been hard enough to explain who Claris was. Murtagh didn't tell him where they were headed, neither did Eragon ask. The less he knew, the better.

…

Claris couldn't ride Nacara yet, but she thought they would travel on Thorn's back. She was surprised when Murtagh told her they would be traveling on foot.

"Nacara is too young to catch up with Thorn's speed; it would tire her out immediately," he explained. "But she is also too big for you to carry in your arms now. I didn't tell Eragon, but we won't be far from the Sanctuary until she is fully grown up. I know a place nearby."

"And when she grows up?"

"I have a castle in the North. I can complete your training there after we are done in Ilirea. Then we will travel to Ellesméra. You are going to need a Rider's sword."

She looked at Zar'roc, hanging from Murtagh's belt. "How did you convince the elves to forge a sword for you? Or did you steal it?"

He was surprised she didn't know the story of Zar'roc, she was quiet good at history. But then, his father's sword wasn't a major subject in history, it was just a personal detail.

"Neither," he said. "This was my father's sword."

"Morzan's sword?" she gasped.

"It's called Zar'roc."

"That word means _misery_."

"Yes, it does," Murtagh confirmed dryly.

"Why? Why do you use his sword?" she asked, apparently judging him. Murtagh didn't like it. Once again, he wished he was alone with Thorn. Thorn wouldn't bother him with such stupid questions.

"Why should I not?"

"You are not his son… I mean, you are his son, but not his _heir_. If someone offered me my father's sword, I would destroy it. I don't care how fine it is. I would rather fight with a wooden stick."

"I wouldn't risk my life, or Thorn's, by fighting enemies who are armed to the teeth with a wooden stick. You should get your priorities right. And like you said, the elves probably wouldn't make me a new sword. So, it looks like I am stuck with Zar'roc. I don't care what its name means as long as it protects me."

Claris knew he wouldn't be welcomed in the capital of Elves. Given her parentage, neither would she. "I don't need a Rider's sword. I know I have already caused you too much trouble, I am not a fool."

Murtagh didn't argue. "As you wish."

Half an hour later, they had arrived an abandoned small cabin in the forest. It wasn't much, but they could surely live here for a few months, until she could ride Nacara.

"How did you find this place?" she asked.

"While hunting."

There was a stove, a few cupboards filled with cooking utensils, a dining table with two chairs and a bed. Everything was covered in dust, but it looked cosy enough. The bed was a problem, though. It was a double bed, but naturally, Murtagh couldn't suggest sharing it with Claris. One of them had to sleep on the floor.

"You can have the bed," Murtagh offered.

"I—I can't."

"Why?"

"I can't sleep in a bed while my master sleeps on the floor. It is rude and inappropriate. You should have it."

"Alright." Murtagh dropped his stuff on his new bed. If she didn't want it, he wasn't going to insist. "We need something to eat for dinner. I'm going to hunt."

"I'm coming with you."

"You don't have a bow."

"I can hunt with magic."

"No. You are too dependent on your magic. From now on, as a part of your training, you are forbidden to use it until your aiming improves."

Her mouth opened in shock and disbelief. Banning a Rider from using her magic! Absolutely ridiculous! "I told you I am not interested in archery."

"Now you have a reason to be."

Murtagh grabbed his bow and quiver, leaving his frustrated student alone.

 _"Are you sure this is the best way to teach her?"_ Thorn asked.

 _"She needs to know how to use a bow, and I don't know how else I can motivate her."_

 _"No, you are only taking your anger out on Claris."_

 _"I am not angry with Claris."_

 _"True, you are angry with yourself."_

Murtagh closed his mind to everyone, including Thorn, and tried not to think about his inevitable reunion with Nasuada as he followed a deer's track.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, what do you think? I told you Murtagh and Nasuada would meet under interesting circumstances, I hope you are not disappointed. I haven't started writing the next chapter, so I don't know for sure, but Nasuada will probably be in it. Or, she will definitely be in the chapter after that, don't worry!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm really, really sorry for not updating sooner! I've just written this chapter to let you know that I haven't abandoned this story. I'm just having a writer's block, and it is hard to find inspiration material on the Inheritance Cycle. I could read the series from the start, of course, but unfortunately I don't have time for that yet. I apologize again! This chapter is short, but sweet. I had lots of fun while writing it and picturing the conversation between Claris and Nacara in my head. I hope you'll like it as well :)**

* * *

 _"The sky is ours, little one."_

It was Nacara's turn to call Claris "little one" now. Watching the young dragon grow up over the last few months was fascinating. Since Murtagh helped her to make Nacara's first saddle, they flew for hours every night, just to enjoy the feeling. At first, Claris was afraid of the heights, although she never admitted it, but Nacara let her in her own mind, and since then, she knew Nacara would never let her fall. Her fear was gone. There was only the joy.

Thorn and Murtagh were asleep, the only sound was the nocturnal animals chasing their prey. They were no threat to a dragon and a Rider. Tomorrow, they would finally leave for Ilirea, to give Master Ari a proper burial in his homeland. Murtagh had told her not to worry about Queen Nasuada, that he could handle her. Claris wasn't sure how he would do that. Hadn't he tortured her once? How was he planning to gain her trust?

And that wasn't the only thing she was worried about. She was grateful to Murtagh for standing up for her, she truly was. She wasn't scared of him anymore, she knew he wasn't Morzan. She was hoping to become friends with him now, they had so much in common. Both had been born to evil parents, inherited their cursed legacies, but at some point, determined their own fates. Both had siblings who were much better at everything than they could ever be, although Jezebel was nothing like Eragon. But most importantly, no one was willing to give them a chance for redemption. They only had their dragons, and each other.

 _"Also, he is pretty handsome,"_ Nacara said, almost giggling, if a dragon could do such a thing. Despite her traumatic hatching, she had turned out to be quiet playful.

Claris was just glad she couldn't see her blushing. She wasn't stupid, she knew she was developing feelings for him. She also knew these feelings were most probably not mutual, so she was willing to settle for a friendship in that case.

 _"How can even a dragon determine if a man is handsome or not?"_ she asked, both to change the subject and out of curiosity.

 _"We can recognize beauty in all creatures,"_ she replied. _"They don't necessarily have to be a potential mate."_

She rolled her eyes. _"I don't see Murtagh as a 'potential mate.' Besides, that word is quiet inappropriate for humans, I told you before."_

 _"Right, I often forget your mating rituals are more… complicated. Oh, my apologies. 'Courtship," I should have said."_

 _"Now you're just trying to embarrass me, Nacara."_

 _"Maybe... Maybe I'm trying to prepare you for the worst."_

 _"You know something about him, don't you?"_ Recently Murtagh was being cold, distanced and agitated for no apparent reason. For example, he had become frustrated and given up on her archery lessons this morning, although Claris was doing her best. "Maybe you're just not meant to be an archer. Stick with your sword and magic," he had said dryly and left for a hunting trip, another excuse he used very often to avoid her presence. Something about Ilirea was bothering him, she could feel it. Thorn probably knew why, and if he had told Nacara…

 _"You might not want to get involved in this,"_ Nacara warned her.

 _"Please?"_ she sweetly begged. Going along with her playful attitude usually worked.

 _"Alright. Murtagh and Nasuada are in love with each other."_

"WHAT?" Her high-pitched voice echoed in the mountains.

 _"Hush!"_

 _"I'm sorry, it's just…"_ These feelings were just too new for her, and she didn't know how to contain them. Now, to make the matters worse, jealousy was added to the list. _"I thought Nasuada was married, and Murtagh was her enemy. He tortured her in the past, while serving my father, am I wrong?"_

 _"No, you are right. Nasuada is married to King Orrin, and they have three children. Murtagh kidnapped and tortured her in the past,but at the same time he secretly eased her pain by using his magic. Galbatorix had no idea. That was when they fell for each other. At least that is what Thorn told me."_

 _"Falling in love with your torturer? This is sick…"_ It didn't matter how much she and Murtagh had in common, or how good-looking he was, she would never let him get away with it, let alone fall in love with him, if he ever attempted to hurt her. Her pride would never allow her to fall so low.

 _"I told you you might not want to get involved."_

 _"You didn't tell Thorn anything about my feelings, did you?"_

 _"Of course not."_

 _"Good. Thanks for telling me the truth. I was almost going to make a fool of myself."_

Despite her proud response, Nacara could feel the pain in her heart. _"I am sorry, little one. I, too, first thought Murtagh would be a good match for you. But you deserve honesty and fidelity, Claris. Murtagh can't give you those, unless he lets his feelings for Nasuada go first."_

Claris felt so frustrated and ashamed. She had mistaken confidence for stupidity! She was almost going to tell him how she felt! She had forgotten who she was, where she had come from, and where she was going. She had grown too comfortable in that little cabin. _"We will speak of this no more. It never happened. Do you understand?"_

" _As you wish, little one."_


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I know I told you Nasuada would be in this chapter before, but it looks like I miscalculated, since I've decided to write shorter chapters. Sorry about that. I had to explore Murtagh's mind one last time before they met. Next chapter, I promise!**

* * *

 _"Murtagh?"_

Thorn was awake. Murtagh watched the dawn break through his eyes while lying in his bed. He hadn't slept much last night and got lost in his thoughts about Alagaësia, about Nasuada, about everything until Thorn interrupted him. The time had come. Today, they were leaving for Ilirea. For the first time in a long time, he was afraid.

 _"Nasuada will understand."_

He hoped so. He had understood her, when she had chosen the throne over him. She had no choice, it was her responsibility. She didn't have the luxury of leaving everything behind and running away with him. But now, he had a responsibility, too. Being Morzan's son was hard enough, he couldn't even imagine what it was like to be Galbatorix's daughter. He could teach Claris to live with it. He had to. But what was Nasuada going to think when she found out he had defied her orders to protect her, a stranger? And what would it be like to return to the city where he had been held captive, tortured, and forced to torture the only woman he ever cared about? Then he remembered he wasn't the only one who had suffered there.

 _"What about you?"_ he asked Thorn. _"How are you feeling about going back there?"_

 _"I don't mind it. Ilirea is a different city now. If anything, I can teach Nacara a few things about big cities. She has never seen one before. Besides, I want to show her where I hatched."_

He was right. It was not easy for dragons to be in the cities. They couldn't follow their Riders freely around while they were roaming the streets, like they did in the wilderness. They had to keep their distance and sometimes stay hidden, but at the same time their minds had to stay in touch in case they got into trouble.

" _You like her, don't you?"_ At least one of them was enjoying this trip.

" _It's nice to have company. And Murtagh, please don't scare them away. I can see Claris is already feeling uncomfortable around you. You are taking your frustration out on her."_

" _I know. I intend to make up for it."_

He got out of the bed, washed his face and went to find Claris and Nacara. The white dragon was on her usual spot outside the cabin, where she slept, stretching her neck. She had just woken up. Claris normally slept under her wing, but she didn't seem to be around this morning.

"Good morning, Murtagh," Nacara said. "If you are looking for Claris, she is at Ari's tomb."

Of course she was. "Thanks, Nacara," he said and went to second temporary tomb they had built for Ari. Claris was preparing his remains for the journey.

"Hopefully he will finally have a proper resting place by tomorrow evening," he began.

Claris turned to face him, the dark circles under her eyes made it obvious that she hadn't slept last night either, but other than that, it was impossible to know what she was thinking. Sometimes Murtagh thought she was a complete mystery. Cooperative? Yes. Proud? Absolutely. But other than that, he didn't know what she was thinking of him, of becoming a Rider, or anything in general. Both had the tendency to keep their thoughts to themselves, which made it impossible to form a strong bound the master and the disciple was supposed to share. Theirs wasn't a traditional master-apprentice relationship, anyway. He had never demanded it. The idea of demanding someone's respect just because he was older than them seemed stupid. Having been born two decades before her was hardly an achievement to be proud of. Had they been at the same age, Claris could have exceeded him. Murtagh secretly liked this less formal way.

"Thanks to you," she said dryly and walked to the cabin to gather the rest of her stuff.

What was going on with her? This was very unusual of Claris. But he knew it was his fault. She must have been tired of being pushed around all the time. "I need to warn you about a few things before we leave."

She dropped the bags. "Alright. I'm listening."

"First of all, don't use the name Urû'baen. People might think you're trying to revive your father's legacy."

Her expression softened. She had grown up hearing that name all the time. Urû'baen, their father's capital. "I-I'm sorry, it's just an old habit..."

"I know."

"I'll be careful. What else?"

"Nasuada doesn't like sorcerers much. Don't use your magic around her, unless you absolutely have to. She already has enough reason to doubt you."

Something changed in her when he said Nasuada's name. A condescending smirk played about her lips. "Of course, we don't want to upset the mighty Queen."

"Do you have a problem with her?"

"I have a problem with anyone who wants to send me to the chopping block."

"Nasuada is neither a tyrant nor your enemy, Claris."

"But she's not my queen either."

"I told you I can talk some sense into her, but please don't make this more difficult than it already is."

"Fine. Thank you for the warnings, now can we just go already? We're wasting our time." She took her bags and loaded them to Nacara's saddle. Murtagh followed her example, and fifteen minutes later, the two dragons were soaring in the sky with their Riders. Murtagh and Claris never spoke again until they reached to the borders of Alagaësia.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I'm so sorry I didn't update this earlier, but I swear I re-wrote this chapter at least a dozen times! I wanted it to be good. Maybe I should've waited for a couple of days, to revise it for the grammar and punctuation stuff, you know, but I can't wait to see your reaction to this chapter :) Anyway, please enjoy and let me know what you think!**

* * *

"We'll walk from here," Murtagh said when they arrived at the edge of the Ramr River. Thorn and Nacara flew away, although Nacara was reluctant to leave Claris behind. But they all knew it was best if they kept this visit as quiet as possible, and the arrival of the two dragons would hardly go unnoticed. Murtagh's word might be enough for Nasuada to trust Claris, but if people found out that Morzan's son was training Galbatorix's daughter, it would definitely start an uprising in the city. The Black King might have been dead, but the atrocities committed during his reign were still fresh in people's minds.

 _"Be careful in there, little one,"_ Nacara said. Claris couldn't see her anymore, but the presence of the white dragon was still strong in her head. _"And no matter what happens, don't even think of shutting me out of your mind, do you understand? Or I will come to get you out of the city right away, I don't care what Thorn or Murtagh says."_

 _"When did I ever shut you out, Nacara?"_

 _"Just a warning. "_ It was true, Claris had never hidden anything from her, but Nacara feared finally meeting Nasuada in person might trigger some dark thoughts Claris might not want to share. She already hated and envied the Queen furiously, even though she always denied it. Since Nacara revealed Murtagh and Nasuada's past, she had become too proud when it came to her feelings for Murtagh. She constantly claimed that it was a fleeting and childish infatuation that resulted from gratitude, but Nacara had already seen the hidden truth behind her denial. And she wanted Murtagh to reciprocate those feelings, she truly did, because the relationship between Nacara and Thorn was changing as the young dragoness grew up. If they were going to be mates, that meant Murtagh and Claris would have to spend a lot of time together, even after Claris' training was complete. But Nacara couldn't put her Rider into an emotional torment just to mate with Thorn.

 _"Emotional torment? I think you're exaggerating a bit,"_ she mentally chuckled. _"What I thought was just a naive fantasy. We're too much alike to be a couple."_

 _"Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?"_

 _"No. Think about Eragon and Arya. You know how different they are. They bring balance to each other's life. Murtagh and I, on the other hand? Yes, we're both outsiders, outcasts. And we come from a dark background. That's the problem, we would probably drown ourselves in each other's darkness. Not to mention we're both too reserved. My mind, my privacy, and my freedom are too precious for me to trade with any comfort a lover could offer, I'm sure it's the same for him. What kind of relationship would it be if we aren't going to share anything?"_

 _"You share your privacy with me. Murtagh shares his with Thorn. You can change for each other."_

 _"That's different. Once you become a Rider, you have no choice. I'm not changing who I am for a man, though."_

 _"So? Are you going to live your entire life as a hermit?"_

 _"Why not?"_

Sometimes Claris could be more stubborn than a dragon.

...

They had arrived at the city gates. There were two guards waiting outside. "Halt!" one of them said. "Identify yourselves and state your business in the city!"

"I'm Murtagh Morzansson, and this is my apprentice," Murtagh spoke, avoiding to reveal the name of his _apprentice_. "We're here to bury Master Ari of House Helcrest."

"Wait here," the guard told them and went into the city in a hurry, as if he had been instructed to report if he saw Murtagh. Was the Queen expecting them? No one knew about their plans to bring Ari's remains here, not even Eragon or Arya. Claris looked at Murtagh, who was thinking about the same thing.

"Eragon must have informed Nasuada that you're now under my responsibility."

"Right, but she couldn't possibly think we were going to pay her a visit, could she?"

Murtagh shrugged. So, she expected to see Murtagh, and Murtagh knew that all along? Maybe he didn't care about Ari or Claris at all. Maybe he was using her as an excuse to see Nasuada. Even worse, maybe he wasn't even as innocent as Claris thought… He might be using her to make Nasuada jealous… Suddenly, she felt so stupid for falling for this trap. She should never have come here.

 _"Or, perhaps you're overthinking…"_

 _"People are not as honorable as you think, Nacara. Not even Riders. Everything makes sense now."_

 _"I still disagree."_

 _"Well, you'll see…"_

A quarter hour later, the guard returned. "The Queen is expecting you. Master Ari's funeral will be held tomorrow evening. Until then, you'll be her guests."

 _"See, just a few months ago, she wanted me to be turned in as a criminal. Now suddenly, she has decided to become a generous host…"_

Nacara didn't say anything. Claris was right, this was a bit suspicious. But Claris forgot all her suspicions about Nasuada and Murtagh the moment she entered the city. She had been mesmerized by her surroundings. She had never seen so many people and so many buildings before. Jezebel used to tell her stories, but to see it for herself…

She looked at Murtagh, who was also amazed at the magnificence before him. Hadn't he lived here for many years? Why did he look like he had never seen this place before?

 _"Maybe it has changed since he left?"_

Right. "Is it different than you remember?" she asked.

"It surely is," Murtagh whispered in amazement. "Ilirea has thrived during Nasuada's reign."

Of course, he had to bring Nasuada into this. But she didn't regret coming here anymore. What she saw was worth it. "Are all the cities in Alagaësia like this?"

Murtagh raised her eyebrows, forgetting that this was the first city Claris had ever been.

"I've never been in a city before. Not many people live in the North to build one."

"Oh, right. Ilirea has always been the jewel of the Empire, even when it was Urû'baen. But now the influence of the dark magic is gone, it feels so different. I never thought I could feel at peace here."

"But you do now?"

"You don't?" he asked, surprised. "I thought you, too, would sense the magical influence here, probably a spell that has been cast to ease people's misery. I wonder how Nasuada allowed it, though…"

"Apparently we've been fascinated by the different aspects of the city."

"I'll give you a tour before we leave. And there are other cities we can visit."

Why was he doing that? She hadn't ask him to vouch for her, she hadn't asked him to bring Ari's remains back to his homeland, she hadn't asked him to show her around... She didn't want to owe him anything. Why couldn't he just run back to his lover's arms and leave her alone? Nacara was right, this was just an emotional torment for her. She expected her to say "I told you so," but Nacara remained silent. Too lost in her frustration, Claris didn't even notice the elegance of Castle Ilirea.

Murtagh led her to the throne room. The palace hadn't changed much, except nothing looked dark and dreadful like it used to be. The throne room was still where he remembered.

Before the guards let them in, Claris heard two woman arguing.

 _"You promised me!"_ one of them cried.

 _"You know what's at stake here, Ismira. You must understand."_ the other, probably Nasuada, spoke with a gentle, patient and thoughtful voice.

 _"No, I don't. I never will."_

When the doors opened, both women stopped to look at the Riders. And Claris immediately recognized the Queen. It was impossible to mistake her for a commoner. The moment she saw Nasuada, she understood why Murtagh had fallen for her. She wasn't the old, calculating, frigid woman Claris had hoped her to be. Yes, she looked much older than Murtagh, but she was still gorgeous, and she carried herself with pride and wisdom. A true queen Claris could never replace. As expected, Murtagh and Nasuada's eyes locked on each other for a moment. There was no way to know what they were thinking. Or perhaps this moment was just too intense for them to think anything at all. What she wouldn't do to see what was going on in their minds now! But she knew better than invading Murtagh's mind, and Nasuada had probably been trained to protect hers from unwanted guests as well.

The young woman, Ismira, snapped her out of her thoughts, spitting on her face. She was watching her with a piercing, hateful gaze. Claris froze with confusion. All her instincts were screaming her to respond to this insult with violence, make this insolent stranger regret it, but that wasn't an option, not here. Who was she, anyway? Why did she hate her so much? She looked like a warrior. She wore a fine armor and carried an elegant sword.

"Commander Ismira!" Nasuada scolded her. "That's enough! Everyone, leave us alone, now." The guards, a man who looked like the Queen's advisor, and this young woman, Ismira all left the room. But Claris could still feel Ismira's gaze on her.

"I apologize for Ismira's behavior," Nasuada said once they were alone, as Claris wiped her face with the back of her hand. "She still thinks you're responsible for her father's death."

"Her father?"

"Roran," Murtagh sighed.

Nasuada turned to him with a bright smile on her face and gave him a warm hug. "Murtagh… It's been so long. Welcome to Ilirea." Claris wondered how Nasuada would welcome him if she weren't here with them. She knew Nasuada was married, but still… Fidelity was a rare occurance in political marriages. Almost all kings had mistresses and queens secret lovers. The questions was, would Murtagh accept to fall that low for this woman?

But none of these questions mattered now. There were more important things they had to discuss.

"I assume you disagree with Ismira?" Claris asked.

"Eragon told me everything about you, your sister and Ari. He was a great man who deserves a proper funeral. I'm glad you decided to bring his remains here."

"So, you were expecting us to come?"

"No, I was only _hoping_ you would come. And I was also hoping to speak with you in person. If both Eragon and Murtagh are vouching for you, then I'm willing to give you a chance to prove yourself. But first, I need to speak to you alone, Murtagh, my old friend."

 _Of course you do_ , Claris thought with jealousy. "What about the King?" she asked suddenly, to make the two a bit uncomfortable. "Does he agree with you? And your children? Do they know who I am?"

"I don't keep any secrets from my family, Claris," she said, with a hint of insinuation in her voice. "Of course my children know the truth. And they trust my judgement. As for Orrin… He's too preoccupied with… other matters."

"I see. Here are Ari's remains. Where should I put them?"

Nasuada took the box in which Ari's bones were kept."I'll make the arrangements myself. Like I said, he was a great man. Hilde!" she called one of her hand-maidens. "Please show Claris to her chambers. She must be really tired."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Queen Nasuada," Claris forced herself to say, but didn't bow before her. She would refuse to become one of her subjects. Her authority didn't mean anything to her. She hated her even more now, she was one of the reasons everything had been taken away from her and Jezebel. She had been born here, probably in a cold, dark dungeon cell. The child no one wanted. The child no one loved. All her life, she had lived in exile as an orphan, while she could be the princess of this beautiful city. No one would dare spit on her face, no one would dare insult her like that… Why couldn't Galbatorix just have been a good man? He, her mother, Jezebel… They could live here happily as a family. Jezebel wouldn't have succumbed to madness. Ari would be alive. Murtagh could still be her father's champion, a good friend of the royal family, and maybe he would love her instead of Nasuada. She could have everything she wanted. Nasuada would be nothing but another insignificant name in the history. For the first time in her life, she understood why her sister wanted revenge so badly. A part of her wanted it, too. But she also knew none of it was Nasuada's fault. She just had been born to the right father.

After the servant led her to the guest chambers, Claris immediately dismissed her. There was a bottle of wine on the desk. She wasn't a heavy drinker, but now that bottle seemed like the only thing that could help her.

" _Bad idea, little one,"_ Nacara warned her. _"You should stay alert. Nasuada didn't seem like a threat to me, but you probably have more enemies than you think."_

" _I don't care."_

" _What would Ari say if he could see you now?"_

Claris didn't reply. Nacara's thoughts were just a background noise in her head. She finished up the bottle in less than half an hour, and she was feeling sick. She wanted to throw up, but she couldn't, and the room was spinning around her. She decided to nap for a few hours. No one could see her like this.

…

She woke up with something cold and sharp pressed against her neck. Someone in a black cloak was standing above her, pinning her down to the bed with one hand and holding a dagger with another. It was Ismira, Roran's daughter. She was looking at her with the same hateful gaze when they met in the morning. Claris was paralyzed with drunkenness and exhaustion. It happened so fast. She couldn't even react. Ismira didn't hesitate before slitting her throat. Then she left the guest chambers as quickly as she had come.

That night, the people of Ilirea woke up from their sleep with the terrible roar of a dragon in the distance.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, this could be a bit of spoiler for the next chapter, but in case you think this ending is just cruel, here it goes: She's not dead, guys! I have an explanation, trust me :D**


	11. Chapter 11

It was a strange relief, to see Nasuada again after all these years. Now Murtagh knew why he was really afraid. He was afraid, because he thought that hopeless passion would haunt him again. But love was the greatest enigma of all times. Once it was there, now it was gone. And the moment he looked into her eyes, he knew she felt the same way. It had been too long to go back now.

Thorn didn't have an answer for this. It was a strange concept to him. When dragons loved one another, it lasted for an eternity. " _Perhaps you're wiser than us_ ," Murtagh thought. " _Perhaps you don't mistake love for infatuation."_

 _"Perhaps,"_ Thorn agreed.

"Twenty years," Nasuada began as they walked in the royal gardens. "It has been twenty years. How have you been, Murtagh?"

"Better… After everything Galbatorix did to me. What about you?"

"Same as you. Better… Or, worse. Unlike you, I'm getting old," she chuckled.

"No, you're still beautiful."

Nasuada raised her eyebrows, entertained.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" He didn't know what to say. Nasuada was married with children, and what he had just said was inappropriate, considering their past. He paused for a moment, not knowing how else to say it. "I'm not here for you," he finally confessed.

"I know. I knew it the moment I saw you."

"I didn't. Not until I saw you today. I told Claris this trip was to give Ari a proper funeral. I told myself the same thing. It was a lie. I had to see you. I had to know. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. Not to me, at least."

"What do you mean?"

Nasuada gestured at a couple in the distance with her head, changing the subject. Was that… Orrin? Was he holding hands with a young woman?

"How can you let this happen?" Murtagh asked. He was furious. He might not have feelings for Nasuada anymore, but she was still his friend, and he wouldn't let anyone insult his friends. Not even their spouses.

"Well, at least he's not drunk… Yet."

"They're openly humiliating you!"

"When we married, Orrin promised me peace and happiness for my people. He kept his promise. What else can I ask from him?"

"And you'd do anything for your people's happiness, wouldn't you?" Murtagh asked, remembering the magic he sensed when he entered the city.

"Indeed I would. And theirs is true love. Who am I to stand in their way? That woman is the only thing that keeps him sane. Not every king is born to rule, apparently."

Murtagh remembered why he had never desired to rule anyone but himself. The throne was just another sort of prison.

"I'll hold a meeting tomorrow after the funeral. Only a selected few will be informed. I want to handle this as quietly as possible. I'll do everything in my power to help, but it will eventually be up to you two to stop Jezebel and her Shade. Now tell me, Murtagh, can Claris really be trusted?"

"Yes," Murtagh said without hesitation.

"I wasn't questioning her intentions. I was asking if she can kill her sister when the time comes. If she hesitates…"

"Jezebel ordered Ari's murder. He was like a father to Claris. She won't forgive that."

"Very well, then. I'd like to stay and talk, but unfortunately I'm too busy. Get some rest. You know where the guest chambers are."

Nasuada was right. Murtagh was exhausted, both physically and mentally. His encounter with Nasuada had left him confused, and Ilirea had brought back all the unpleasant memories of his enslavement.

…

He woke up to Nacara's roars, as the rest of the city. His first thought was Claris. She must have been in trouble.

 _"Claris is dead, Murtagh,"_ Thorn said. _"Ismira killed her in her sleep. I'm having a difficult time subduing Nacara right now."_

 _No,_ he thought. No, it couldn't be real. He ran to Claris' room, which was next to his. He had chosen that one deliberately in the morning, to be close to her, to protect her if necessary. Her door was locked and no one had answered when he knocked, so he had assumed she was just tired, like him.

What he saw was going to change him forever. Claris lying on the floor, lifeless. His rage was enormous. This pain was so sudden, so unexpected. He had never thought she could die. He thought she might leave him some day, when her training was complete, but that was all. Even that idea was enough to fill his heart with agony. He had wanted her to stay. He knew why, always did. He just didn't want to admit it to himself.

He felt an urge to return to his days of darkness, but this time willingly. He wanted to make whoever did this to her suffer, even if it was Roran's daughter.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed as he gently held her in his arms. He wished he had done that while she was still alive, while she could feel it and wrap her arms around him in return. "I'm sorry I failed you."

Guards began knocking on the door while he stroked her golden hair. Instinctively, he pulled the body even closer, as if he had to protect it from everyone else.

"Murtagh, are you in there?" he heard Nasuada ask.

His sobs ceased to nothing and he cast a barrier spell to make sure no one could enter. It was pathetic. He was one of the most powerful sorcerers in the realm, yet here he was, helpless against the power of death.

Then, he felt it. A spark of life.

 _Impossible_ , he though. There was no pulse. No heartbeat.

Something was keeping her alive, though. Someone must have been keeping her in a magical limbo. It wasn't him. Maybe it was Nacara, or even Thorn. Thorn was still too busy subduing her, but he let him know. Suddenly, the roars stopped.

 _"It is not us,"_ Thorn said. " _But Nacara felt it, too after I told her."_

Who in Ilirea could be powerful enough to do this? It had to be someone within the city, as distance would only make this impossible spell even more impossible.

 _"A necromancer?"_

 _"No, there's no necromancers left in Ilirea."_

 _"There might be one…"_

Thorn was right. There could still be one. Freja. Claris' mother. Murtagh hadn't thought Nasuada would let her live after giving birth to Claris, but there was no other explanation. If she was alive, she had to be in the dungeons. Murtagh had to see her.

With his newly found hope, he gathered himself, placed Claris back in the bed, and unlocked the door. His magic was going to ensure no one could enter even if the door was open.

"Murtagh, what's happening? That dragon has woken up the entire city! Is Claris alright? You're covered in blood!" Nasuada asked.

"Ismira tried to kill her, but she's fine now. No one enters this room, do you understand?"

"Let my healers take a look at her, at least…"

"I said, she's fine!" Murtagh snapped. "I suggest you find Ismira before I find her!"

He ran downstairs and cloaked himself invisible once he was out of everyone's sight. He delved into the dungeons. If Freja was still kept here, she had to be in the cells preserved for the most dangerous criminals. That level of the dungeon was even deeper and darker; guards rarely went down here, as the most powerful sorcerers had ways to live with little food.

And he was right. There she was, all alone in a cold, empty cell. The silence here was dreadful. She looked much older than Murtagh remembered; her hair was grey now and there were deep wrinkles on her face. She was wearing nothing but dirty rags. This was so ironic, considering she always insisted on wearing the most expensive clothes and jewelery in Alagaësia when she was Galbatorix's concubine. With all those terrible crimes she had commited, she deserved worse, though. Murtagh wasn't looking forward to this meeting. He didn't want to see anyone who reminded him of Galbatorix. But if it was going to bring Claris back, he would do it. He would do anything to get her back.

"You don't have to conceal yourself, Murtagh," her voice echoed in the empty cave. "I was expecting you."

Murtagh revealed himself silently.

"Is that my daughter's blood on your hands?" She seemed truly concerned about Claris. He knew this could just be an act, but he was desperate.

"Was that you who kept her alive?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Hmph. You underestimate my powers."

"Yet, after all this time, you're still rotting in this cell…"

"Because, Murtagh, I deserve my punishment. Nasuada kept me alive only because she feared I had the ability to resurrect myself, and she was right. But I wouldn't have done that. Why would I? In death, at least I would be free from remorse and regret…"

When he looked at her face, he really saw the remorse and regret she was talking about.

 _"Do not believe her,"_ Thorn reminded him. He was right. He wasn't doing this because he trusted Freja. He was doing this because he had no other choice.

"…But now it appears the time has come for me to escape. Meet me at my secret sacrificial altar at midnight. I know it still stands. Even Eragon couldn't discover it. Bring my daughter, and the other thing I need for the ritual."

"What's the other thing?"

"Oh, Murtagh, you know how this works… _Life for a life._ There has to be a sacrifice. And that's not the only price she has to pay."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for all the nice reviews, guys! I never thought this story would be so well-received! You keep me motivated! I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, and the twist I promised isn't too stupid.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Okay, so this was probably the most intense chapter I've written. Brace yourselves, so many revelations below...**

* * *

The first thing Claris felt when she woke up was agony. Not hers, but Nacara's. There was also some sort of relief as well. And anger, at her recklessness.

 _"Welcome back, little one,"_ she said, but Claris couldn't see her. It was too dark.

 _"Where am I?"_

 _"Get up and see for yourself."_

Only then, Claris realized she was lying on something hard and cold. She got up and looked around. It was a sacrificial altar, in a cave lit by a couple of candles. The energy radiating from the altar was pure evil, she hadn't seen such a thing before, not even in Seskel's castle. But she knew how it worked. Innocent people had been slaughtered here during unspeakable rituals.

 _"What happened?"_

 _"You died, little one."_

 _"That's impossible. I feel very much alive."_

 _"Because you have been brought back."_

 _"No, what you say doesn't make any sense. I know the ritual, only a necromancer can do that. I'm pretty sure there are no necromancers left in the city, and Murtagh would never agree to do this."_

 _"He agreed to help."_

She realized Nacara was still hiding something. There had to be something big going on. _"Help to whom?"_

 _"To your mother."_

 _"My… mother?"_ Nacara would never joke about such a sensitive matter. Her mother, still alive… She didn't even know how to feel about her. As far as she knew, that woman was no better than Galbatorix. _"What's she like?"_

She showed her everthing that had happened ever since Claris died. How she revealed herself to the whole city in her rage, how Murtagh hid her death from everyone and made a deal with Freja… He had chosen a drunken bard from a local tavern for the sacrifice. A man with no family or friends. No one was going to miss him. Finally, she showed her the ritual. She had watched it through Thorn's eyes, and Thorn had watched it through Murtagh's. The cave was too small for a dragon and not being there with Claris had almost driven Nacara insane. Once again, Claris felt incredibly guilty for causing her so much pain. But Nacara also couldn't help feeling grateful to Freja, which was a bit disturbing for Claris.

" _She is waiting outside, with Murtagh."_

Oh, and there was him. How could he have agreed to resurrect her? To work with Galbatorix's favorite concubine? None of these made any sense. But Nacara was right, she had to see them. She carefully took one of the candles and walked through a dark, narrow passage that led to a clearing just outside of Ilirea. Murtagh was there, talking with an elderly woman. They didn't look like friends, but they weren't fighting either. They didn't notice her.

"Freja?" she whispered.

Freja turned around and smiled. "Claris! My dear child! You have no idea how much I've been looking forward to this day!" Nacara was right, this didn't sound like an evil sorceress, but she wasn't going to fall for her tricks.

Murtagh silently walked away to give the two women some privacy. Freja attempted to hug her, but Claris took a few steps back.

"What do you want?" she asked harshly.

"What?"

"You brought me back to life for a reason. Don't pretend like you care about me. Tell me, what's the price I'll have to pay?"

"Oh, dear. You and Jezebel have already paid the price for my mistakes. And your father's."

"Galbatorix was no father to me. And don't even think you can ever be my mother," she spat.

"Perhaps. Still, what I did to bring you back… has a cost. You will never be the same again, child."

 _Here we go_ , she thought. Such a dark magic would never come without a heavy cost. Some said death was cleaner.

"The spell I cast was the same spell that is used to create a Shade."

"What? Does… does that mean I'm now a Shade?"

A _Shade_. She had become a Shade! Death was cleaner, indeed.

"Technically, yes."

She looked at her arms,her hands under the moonlight to see if she truly looked like a Shade, but she couldn't see a difference.

"You won't look like one," Freja assured her. "No one will be able to tell the difference. Probably because you were resurrected in your original body and you didn't stay dead for long."

"So, what's the price?"

"Shades can't have children."

Claris smiled. This was the perfect opportunity to offend Freja. "I've never wanted a child anyway," she shrugged. "This cursed bloodline should end with me and Jezebel."

"You're right."

This wasn't the reaction she had expected. "Why? Aren't you going to defend yourself and your beloved?"

"No," she shook her head. "Absolutely not. I was a fool to follow him so blindly in his madness. You and Jezebel are the only good things that came out of our union."

"Jezebel? Do you have any idea what she has become?"

"Don't judge her so harshly."

"So, you know…"

"She can be saved. All I ask is a chance."

"You want me to let you go? Never! You're going back to that cell."

Claris quickly cast a spell to pin her down where she was. At least her magic was as strong as ever. Nacara helped her ehance it even more.

"You're no match for a Rider," she said, circling around Freja. "Give up."

"Claris, please, you must understand. Seskel wants her for a reason."

"And what reason is that?"

"When Jezebel was born, I made a sacrifice to make her the heir I thought your father deserved. I sacrificed an elf at my altar."

"An elf?" She couldn't believe her ears. How had she managed to get her hands on one?

"One of our captives. Galbatorix was keeping him in prison, hoping that one day he could harness the power in his blood. That power was given to Jezebel. Now Seskel wants it."

"That explains why Jezebel is so powerful… But how does Seskel know an elf was sacrificed at her birth?"

"Murtagh can explain that, if he chooses to do so…"

"Murtagh?"

"Claris, let her go." Murtagh was back.

"Are you sure?" she asked, puzzled at this strange request.

"She can stop Seskel. She has a plan. We have to let her try."

"Alright." Claris released her mother.

"Thank you, my dear. One day we will meet again. Until then, try to find forgiveness in your heart for your sister… And me," Freja said and then disappeared in the night. Only then, Thorn and Nacara landed. Claris ran to Nacara and wrapped her hands around Nacara's neck. It was a relief to be with her physically after everything. This was too much. She needed her.

 _"I'm always with you, Claris."_

 _"Even if I'm a Shade?"_

 _"Even if you are a Shade."_

 _"Aren't you ashamed of me?"_

 _"Not at all. We are both young, and we sometimes make mistakes."_

Being in Nacara's thoughts were comforting, but Claris had to face Murtagh about Freja.

"What was that about? You let the worst necromancer in history go free."

"She's the key to stop Seskel. And he needs to be stopped," he said dryly.

"Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine. Let's talk about something else. Like, why did you help her make me a Shade! A Shade, Murtagh! If it wasn't for Nacara, I'd prefer death now."

"I was desperate."

"You don't seem very happy to see me right now."

"I'm not in the mood for celebration."

Claris realized Murtagh was really, really upset about something and it wasn't about her. It was about something else entirely. She felt bad for him. He had defied Nasuada, twice, just for her, and he had no regrets. It was obvious. He had really wanted her back, Claris had seen it in Nacara's memories. Then why wasn't he happy now?

"What's wrong, Murtagh?" she asked softly, putting her hands on his shoulders. "What did my mother tell you?"

He didn't shake her off. He let her see the tears he was trying to hide. Everything that made him look wild, or intimidating was gone. He looked like a helpless little boy. "She told me who Seskel was. Or, who he used to be, at least."

"Before he was possesed, or the soul that possesed him?"

"The latter."

"Alright. So, who was he, then?"

Murtagh remained silent.

"You can tell me."

"Someone we all know too well. Galbatorix's most loyal ally."

Claris could only think of one name. A name that could explain why Murtagh was affected so deeply.

Morzan.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I hope this story isn't getting boring, guys! Honestly, I'm not very satisfied about the last few chapters. Do you know what we all need? Some fluff and romance! I promise that for the next chapter!**

* * *

"Ismira Katrinasdaughter, you have betrayed a direct order of your queen. And for a meaningless vengeance… Was it really worth it?"

"How many more times do I have to tell you? I didn't do it!"

Nasuada believed her. If Ismira had really attempted to kill Claris, she wouldn't be denying it like a coward. It wasn't something an honorable warrior like her would do. Nasuada hated to put her in a dungeon cell. But as a queen, she needed to preserve her authority. She couldn't let her free until she proved herself innocent.

"Nacara says the last thing Claris saw before passing out was your face. She swore in the ancient language. I have no choice but to punish you for treason unless you do the same."

"I don't speak the ancient language, and I won't. I'm a warrior, not a trickster."

"Trust me, speaking a couple of words in the ancient language won't immediatelyturn you into a mage."

"I thought you shared my hatred for magic."

"You didn't always hate magic. You, too, know it can be useful sometimes."

"You're right. I didn't. Not until it took my father from me."

"At least allow my sorcerers to examine your mind. We did it in the Varden all the time. It counts as evidence."

"I don't need your mercy. If I'm to be punished, so be it."

"Ismira, you'll be executed! Please, for your mother's sake, at least!"

Bringing Katrina into the subject worked, as Nasuada hoped. Ismira thought for a few minutes. Then she said yes.

"On one condition, though," she added. "I want Claris herself to do it."

Nasuada was surprised. "Why? You can't even stand looking at her. Are you going to let her invade your mind now? If this is a trick…"

"I told you I'm no trickster."

"Then why?"

"Because I don't want people think I'm getting special treatment from you."

"Alright. I'll talk to Claris."

As she left the dungeons, one of the guards approached. "My Queen, the Riders have returned."

"Good. I want to see them. Any sign of Freja?"

"Unfortunately no, my Queen."

Nasuada hadn't told anyone, but she knew this was no coincidence. Freja had never attempted to escape before. Then, suddenly, after all those years, she was gone, the night her daughter was in mortal danger. Nasuada knew who was behind this. She was no fool.

…

Once again, Claris and Murtagh were waiting in the throne room, but this time Thorn and Nacara were there as well. The hall was large enough to hold multiple dragons, after all, this place was once where Galbatorix kept Shruikan. Nacara had refused to leave Claris alone ever again, and after last night, there was no reason to hide the fact that there were two Riders were in the city. Everyone had seen Nacara. Now, she was feeling a bit ashamed, for revealing their secret and hurting Thorn while he was trying to subdue her. She should have controlled herself.

 _"No one is blaming you. I would've done the same if I thought you were dead,"_ Claris said.

 _"I didn't think you were dead. You were truly dead."_

 _"Do you really have to remind me of that?"_ Claris was still uncomfortable with the idea of being a Shade. She didn't feel any different. She knew Shades had peculiar powers and abilities, but she had no interest in discovering them.

 _"You don't need a Shade's powers when you have me."_

Claris smiled. Dragons were arrogant and proud, nothing in the world could change that. Nacara lowered her head so Claris could stroke the scales on her neck. They had so much to discuss, but they hadn't found an opportunity to be alone yet. They had had to rush back to the city before Nasuada realized Freja was gone. Little did they know, Nasuada already suspected of their involvment in Freja's disappearance.

She looked at Murtagh, who seemed much calmer now, at least on the surface. Last night was the first time she had ever seen him afraid, and that was a disturbing sight. If Morzan—or, Seskel—could still scare someone like Murtagh, what was he really capable of? Claris could have blamed Murtagh for her past recklessness, but keeping herself safe was her responsibility, not his. She should have stayed alert instead of getting drunk. Besides, Murtagh had lied Nasuada, murdered an innocent man, and helped a criminal escape, just to get her back. She didn't know if he loved her the way she loved him, but it was obvious that he cared. In fact, he cared too much. Claris would never want anyone to do those things for her. She wasn't Jezebel. She was trying to be good. But to her shame, secretly, she appreciated it. Murtagh cared about her, in a dangerous way. There was a strange satisfaction in this thought.

Death had taught her a lesson. She had to embrace whatever feelings she had. Not only about Murtagh, but about anything. She had to embrace them, so that they wouldn't distract her and she could be the capable Rider she was supposed to be. Denial made things only worse. Now, as a Shade, she would be much harder to kill, but still…

Nasuada's arrival interrupted her thoughts.

"Claris, I apologize for last night. I should have provided you with better security. I hope you're feeling alright?"

"You don't need to apologize. I should've been more careful."

"What's going to happen to Ismira?" Murtagh asked, his tone made it clear that he wished to punish her himself.

"About that… I believe she is innocent of this crime."

The two Riders looked at each other, unable to believe what they had just heard.

"Nasuada," Murtagh started. "I know you want to protect Ismira, but…"

"Yes, I want to protect her. From being punished for a crime she didn't commit."

"But I saw her! She was the one who slit my throat!" Claris argued.

"I know Ismira better than any of you. She is no coward. If she had done this, she would've turned herself in and faced her execution with dignity."

"What was she doing when you found her?" Murtagh asked, this time softly. He trusted Nasuada's judgement.

"She was sleeping. When we woke her up, she denied it, but I sent her to the dungeons anyway. I had to. We offered her to teach the words to swear in ancient language, but her hatred for magic and anything remotely related to magic is inconceivable. I was going to tell my sorcerers to examine her to confirm her innocence, but she refused it as well. She doesn't want people to think she is above the law just because she is Roran Stronghammer's daughter."

He seemed to believe her, but reluctantly. "What are you going to do now?"

"She asked Claris to be the one to examine her mind."

"Me?"

"Or, maybe she's planning to finish what she has started?"

Nasuada looked into his eyes. "Murtagh, when you vouched for Claris, I trusted you. Now I'm vouching for Ismira. Are you going to trust me?"

Claris didn't wait for his reply. "You don't need his approval. _I_ trust you."

He shook his head, but Claris was determined. "I won't let anyone else die because of me."

"Very well. This way, Claris. I'm afraid Nacara has to stay behind, though. The corridors are too narrow for her."

 _"Go,"_ Nacara said. _"I hate this, but what you have chosen to do is so noble of you. If she tries to hurt you again, I will burn this castle to the ground, though."_

Claris silently thanked her, and followed Nasuada.

"Who else died because of you?" Nasuada calmly asked once they were alone. She wasn't demaning an answer, she was just letting Claris know that she was aware of everything.

"What?" she asked, but realized she had made a big mistake back there. _I won't let anyone else die because of me_ , she had said. Now, of course, Nasuada was asking who else had died because of her.

"Did you know your mother escaped prison last night?"

"My mother… Is she still alive?" She tried to sound shocked, but she couldn't. She used to be such a smooth liar. What was happening to her now?

"You're a terrible liar," Nasuada chuckled. "I wonder how you've survived so far."

"I was good," she admitted. "Nacara has changed me."

"What about Murtagh? Hasn't he changed you?"

She stopped. "Am I walking into a trap, Nasuada? Are you going to put me into a cell as well?"

"Can you promise me that my people are safe, after whatever you three did last night?"

"Yes," she said. "On my honor as Nacara's Rider."

"Good. Then you have nothing to fear. I don't want to know what Murtagh did to bring you back from the dead."

 _She knows_ , Claris thought. _And she doesn't care._

"So… Is it this simple? Aren't we supposed to be punished by death for what we've done?"

"Dark magic and aiding a prisoner escape… Both are crimes punishable by death, yes. But know this, nothing is simple when it comes to Riders."

"If you're expecting me to be grateful, don't. I don't want to owe anyone anything."

"Here we are." They were in front of Ismira's cell. It was an awkward confrontation.

"Hello Ismira," Claris started, but for Ismira, nothing had changed between them. She still gave her the same hateful gaze.

"Let's just get this over with."

"Very well. I will only search through the last couple of days, or weeks, if I have to. I'll do my best not to invade your privacy."

"How generous of you! Now shut up and do it!"

Ismira lowered her barriers, which wasn't easy for her at all, with all that hatred she had for Claris. Ismira was telling the truth, though, it wasn't her who attacked that night. She was minding her own business. But she also felt her grief. The pain of losing her father, something she was indirectly responsible of. Before she left Ismira's mind, Claris sent a memory from her own; the memory of her regret when she realized that she had to let Roran die to save the dragon egg Jezebel was planning to steal. Maybe that would free her from hatred. It was a heavy burden to bear. The experience left Ismira in shock, but she didn't say anything.

"She's telling the truth," Claris told Nasuada.

The Queen released a deep breath. "I knew it. But that means we have a shape-shifter in our hands? Can you find who that is?"

"Shape-shifting… What I saw that night was very, very convincing. Had I not read Ismira's thoughts, I would still have believed it was her. The caster must have used something that belonged to you. This is the spell Seskel's spies use. I can't believe I've never thought of that before! Seskel wants me dead and he has spies everywhere!" Then she remembered who Seskel truly was, but kept that thought to herself.

"None of my stuff has recently gone missing," Ismira said.

"No, not like an object. Something that belongs to _you_. Like, flesh or blood."

"Wait, I think I might have an idea! Yesterday, after I saw you… I went practicing at the courtyard as usual. The sword was supposed to be dulled with magic, but I cut myself while swinging it recklessly. I didn't care much, it was just a scratch…"

"Who's in charge of your blades?" Claris asked eagerly.

"My steward," she replied, looking at Nasuada. They knew something Claris didn't.

"What?" she asked, puzzled.

"Her steward, who happens to be my husband's mistress," Nasuada said. Orrin wasn't going to be pleased when he heard that his beloved was a spy.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Phew! Long chapter ahead! Good news for those who love long chapters. Also, there's the promised romantic scenes. I consider myself a terrible romance writing, but I guess you should be the judge of that :)**

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The capturing of Orrin's mistress was an unpleasant task. She and Orrin were still asleep when Nasuada and her guards barged into the King's chambers, the reckless and overconfident woman was unprepared and the few spells she had learned from Seskel wouldn't be enough to save her. Nasuada tried her best to explain the situation to Orrin, but he wouldn't hear any of it.

 _"You jealous wench! You just can't let me be happy, can you? I stole your happiness, so you're stealing mine! I'll kill you! I'll kill him, too! I'll kill Murtagh, I swear!"_

Claris and Murtagh could hear his tantrums even from the throne room.

"I apologize for Orrin's behavior," Nasuada said when she joined them once everything was over. "But he will come around, eventually."

"Is it done, then?" Murtagh asked. "Can we question her?"

"Not yet. All these years, that woman has been living under my roof, so I should be the one to question her first. I'm sure you'll understand?"

"Of course."

"Good. You're free to spend the day however you like. After we're both done with our spy, we'll discuss our strategies to take down Seskel and all his allies. Then, I'll have to ask you to leave. Don't get me wrong, you're always welcomed in this city, but it's up to you two to go out there and hunt him down. Of course, you'll be given all the help you need."

"Then it's settled."

"This might not be the best time to ask this," Claris interrupted, "But what about Ari's funeral?"

"Oh, about that… The funeral has already been held, while you were… _unconscious_. I'm sorry, it had to be done quietly, I didn't want to raise any suspiciouns after Nacara revealed herself."

"I understand, but I wish to visit his grave, at least."

"He is buried in his mansion's graveyard, along with the rest of his family. Murtagh can take you there. But if you're going out in public… Remember, Claris, I've spread the world that you're a brave adventurer who went after the stolen egg and killed the thieves. I chose not to bring Ari into this at all. You were on your way here to bring the egg back when it hatched for you. You sought out a master and found Murtagh. We don't want people to know who you really are. Some of them already think Murtagh shouldn't be training a new Rider."

"That's … a convincing story, thank you."

Pleased, Nasuada nodded and left to observe the interrogation of the spy. Murtagh quietly led the way. Ari's family mansion was very close to the palace, like the rest of the influential families in the city. Unfortunately, the Helcrest bloodline had ended with Ari. The graves were in the backyard, where all the flowers and bushes had withered as there was no one to take care of them, only some ancient trees had remained. The whole place looked so gloomy that many people could easily believe it was haunted.

Claris saw his name on a tombstone. He was buried next to his wife, Lilah. Their sons had graves, too, but she doubted if their bodies were really buried in there. The remains of soldiers rarely found their way back home.

"Had it been up to me," Murtagh said. "I would've made sure he was given a proper funeral with a crowd."

"A funeral wouldn't have brought him back. He's gone, Murtagh. And I'm finally ready to accept it."

"It's not easy, I know."

There was a brief silence. Neither of them spoke for a while. Then, suddenly, Claris brought up the topic they both had been avoiding. "Are you going to tell Nasuada who Seskel really is?"

Something had obviously changed in Murtagh. She didn't know if it was for Thorn, or something else, but he didn't snap. He could evaluate Morzan like he would evaluate any other threat now. "What do you think I should do?" he asked, surprising her. She wasn't expecting to be asked for her opinion on this, but she was glad he asked.

"I think you shouldn't. Morzan is your father, and Jezebel is my sister. They're our responsibilities to take care of."

Murtagh thought for a moment, then smiled as if she had passed a test. "I agree."

"Last night you were so afraid… If he can scare you, what is he really capable of? I need to know."

He didn't say anything. Instead, he just took off his shirt. Claris was puzzled by his reaction at first—she had never thought he would be taking off his clothes in front of her— but the moment she saw his scar, she understood. It must have been Morzan who had done this to him, but as far as she knew, Murtagh was still a child by the time he died.

"When—" she started.

"I was three."

Then, it hit her. With the atrocities she had committed, she was no better than Morzan. Who was she to judge him for hurting a three year old boy, while she had killed newborn babies? Who was she, to offer Murtagh sanctuary from Morzan's evil while she was no better than him? Yesterday, she had secrelty enjoyed the fact that Murtagh had killed someone for her! She didn't deserve anything good. No matter how hard she tried, something in her always succumbed to the darkness.

"What's wrong?" Murtagh asked when she collapsed on a marble bench nearby.

"Three?" she scoffed. "Some of my victims were younger than that! When I raided villages with Jezebel… By what right am I declaring war against Morzan?"

He sat next to hear, and put an arm around her shoulders. "Look, I, too—"

"No! It's not the same! I wasn't under anyone's influence when I did those things. I was too proud to be a poor orphan girl so I took my anger out of those innocent people. I enjoyed what I did. And by the time I came to regret my actions, it was too late. It's always too late! And don't tell me that Nacara chose me to be her Rider. Our father were chosen to be Riders once, we all know how it ended. What if I turn out to be like them?"

"What stops you now?"

"I don't know. Fear, maybe. Galbatorix, Jezebel, Morzan… I don't want to become like them. All that fight for power... And for what? To be respected? Feared? I don't want any of it."

"Then what do you have to fear?"

She shrugged. He was right. She had no ambition to rule, or dominate. Why would she want more power?

He pulled out Zar'roc of its sheath. "This sword gave me the scar. Years later, when I saw it in Eragon's hands, it terrified me. Now it belongs to me. Not because it used to belong to my father, but because I'm going to pierce his heart with it."

"Is that why you still have that scar? To remind yourself who he was?" He could have easily healed it.

"No. To remind myself who I am. Here's the thing about fear: The more you fear to become like your father, the more likely you will."

"You may be right."

"Think about it," he sheated the sword back and put on his shirt. "In the meantime, I intend to keep the promise I made about giving you a tour in the city."

His father was back and he really cared about a stupid promise? Moreover, he looked like he actually wanted to have fun. Murtagh and fun? Nevertheless, she agreed. They left Ari's gloomy mansion and Murtagh showed her around. They visited the gardens, squares and the marketplace. Ilirea was full of interesting people from every background one could think of. Some greeted her with smiles—they had recognized the brave adventurer who stopped the egg thieves—but most of them frowned with disgust when they saw Murtagh.

"This isn't fair," she finally said. "You're more of a hero than I am."

"Do you really think I'm a hero?"

"Well, you saved my life. Most people wouldn't approve your methods, but somehow here I am, in the land of the living, and I don't want to leave just yet. I like being alive."

"That's all I need to hear. I don't care what others think."

"Including Nasuada?"

She had to ask this question. They had been having a great time, probably for the first time since they met. They were talking about the usual things all Riders would talk about; hunting, fighting, how to take care of their dragons. No dark legacies or complicated histories. But Murtagh had openly been courting her the whole time. He had never been so obvious about anything before. It wasn't friendship, or master-apprentice bond.

"So, you know?"

"Yes."

"Who told you?"

"Does it matter?"

"I loved her once. I truly did. But not anymore."

"What changed?"

"Twenty years ago, we made a choice. I've learned to live with its consequences. I didn't know it until we came here together."

"So, Ari was just an excuse. I always knew it."

Those words broke Murtagh's heart, but he didn't walk away. "Follow me."

He took her back to the city gates and pointed at a guard. "Do you see that guard? A man died at the very spot he's standing right now. A good man. His name was Tornac."

"Who is Tornac?"

"The first person who believed in me. The man who taught me right and wrong. The only father I knew. Just like Ari."

"Oh… I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"He was killed while we were trying to escape. I never had the chance to bid him farewell. I don't even know what happened to him afterwards. I wanted you to have that chance. You were right, though. I still owe you an apology. I didn't know I was here for you. Not until I lost you."

"Thanks." It was all she could say. His intense gaze had paralysed her, he was directly looking into her eyes and nothing else, observing her every response. She had never been in such a position before. "I-I had no idea. I thought you wanted to use me as a distraction from her."

"I don't need a distraction."

"What do you need, then?"

He looked around. In the alley, they were alone. So he took her hands. Claris wondered how far he was planning to take his courtship. "I need to know what you think of me."

She could tell him the truth. She could tell him everything. If he felt the same way, she had nothing to be ashamed of. And this new sensation of being so close to him… But then her warrior instincts sent her back to the reality, where threats lurked in the shadows, waiting for them to make a single mistake.

"No, we can't!"

Once again, his heart was broken, just with words. How different he was now, from the first time she saw her in the Riders' Sanctuary. He looked unbreakable back then. But here, he was only a man desperate to be loved.

"Claris," he began. "I don't play games. If you say you don't have feelings for me, I'll never bother you again. I'll be no one other than your master and your friend. I swear. If you want me to be more, this is your only chance to tell the truth."

He wasn't joking. "I—I've never felt something like this before, but I think I love you, Murtagh. Here's the truth you need. Still, we can't be together."

"Why? Why should we deny ourselves from happiness?"

"Is it true you were forced to torture Nasuada?"

"Do you think I had a choice?"

"No. No, of course you didn't. I know. Galbatorix knew your true name. He controlled you."

"He's gone."

"What if Morzan does the same? What if he makes you hurt me?"

"He can't. No one can. No one else can force me to reveal my true name again. Or Thorn's." He spoke with confidence, but she could see how much the idea of having to harm her had terrified him.

"That may be so. But what about mine? I can keep Nacara's true name hidden, but Seskel already knows mine! He can make me torture you. Even if we survive, can you live with it? I can't! I can't look into the eyes of the man I love after hurting him!"

"I can protect you, too. I've been studying the power of names for years. I know a way to free you."

"Really?" Suddenly, she felt hopeful. Maybe she didn't have to be a slave, after all. It was one of her greatest fears since she gave her true name to Seskel. And Seskel's being Morzan hadn't make things any better.

"Murtagh and Claris, the Queen has given you permission to question the captive." A guard had appeared out of nowhere. They were still holding hands when he saw them. Claris blushed and pulled her hands back.

They chose not to speak anymore in the presence of a stranger. But they both knew they still had a lot to talk about.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Sorry about the delay. I needed a break to write better chapters. I'm very pleased with this chapter, but feedback is always appreciated as always.**

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The interrogation was just a huge waste of time. Seskel and Jezebel hadn't trusted her with their most important secrets, so she had nothing to say Claris already didn't know, except for one thing: Claris thought she knew about all of their spies in Alagaësia, but according to this one, Eva, she had lost the Shade's trust a long time ago. He was going to enslave her by using her true name, but Jezebel had stopped him from doing so. Soon after, Eva was sent to Ilirea to seduce the King and become his mistress. This had happened years ago. Claris was clueless about the whole thing. This left her wondering what else Seskel had hidden from her.

Eva was a seductress, just like Jezebel. Orrin had been under the influence of her magic all this time. No one had noticed, but seduction spells were hard to detect, anyway. They appeared to be a common infatuation and often there was no reason to suspect if magic was involved.

Nasuada's sorcerers had made sure Eva didn't hold anything back, but Murtagh used his own, questionable methods nevertheless. _Sometimes you have to fight darkness with darkness_ , he said. The cruelty of his methods was beyond even Claris' imagination. He tormented the spy's mind until she passed out. When he was done, the guards collected her unconscious body and returned it to the dungeons. Claris was terrified, but she pretended like she expected this from him. And she should have, after everything he had done to bring her back to life. Still, she had promised herself not to enjoy it again. She didn't want him to protect her, at least not like this.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Murtagh said once they were alone in the interrogation room.

"You shouldn't have done it," she scolded him. "I can't let you punish her like this just because she hurt me. Not while I'm trying so hard to redeem myself."

"I didn't do it to punish her. I was angry, of course, but…"

"Then, why?" she asked harshly.

"Because I wanted to learn if Seskel— _or whoever he really is_ —has any plans for _me_ ," he reluctantly confessed.

Claris blushed. Her harshness was completely gone now. "Oh… I'm being childish again, aren't I? I mean, I should've known… Not everything you do is about me."

"No, it's not," he chuckled. "But you were also right. I would've done it anyway. She _killed_ you, Claris."

She decided to change the subject. "So, does he any plans for you?"

"Not that she knows of," he shrugged. "You're still uncomfortable around me. What's wrong?"

"I…" she tried to think of a euphemism for her lack of experience in courtship. "I'm not used to this. It was Jezebel's specialty, you know… I was more interested in intimidating men, rather than courting them."

Murtagh apologetically took a few steps back. "I'm sorry, I thought—" He looked so confused that it was actually hilarious.

"You thought what?"

"I knew what your sister was, and I thought you, too… I shouldn't have assumed anything, I'm really sorry."

"You thought I was a seductress, too?" she asked, but she was chuckling. Had it come from someone else, this assumption would have offended her deeply, but Murtagh looked so innocent and clueless right now. He wasn't accusing her of anything. He had just thought she knew what she was doing. That was actually a relief for her. Maybe she didn't look so stupid after all.

"It didn't feel right to ask you directly."

"Well, I can't blame you because I think I have the ability. I've just never used it. Jezebel said I didn't have to. That's weird, but right now I'm grateful to her for this. My past is already shameful enough."

"You don't need to be ashamed of anything you've done. You had to survive somehow. If that's what it takes for the fate to bring you to me, so be it." He paused, then took her hands in his; they stood closer now. "I didn't bring up this subject to judge you. In fact, I was going to ask you a favor. A favor I can ask only from someone I absolutely trust."

"What sort of favor?"

"I was going to ask you to teach me how to resist magical seduction. I've spent years trying to fortify my mental barriers against any kind of invasion, but I've never thought I should be prepared for _that_ sort of thing. I was wrong. Apparently I still have a weakness for women. After all, I've fallen for you."

The last sentence would have made her blush again, but picturing him in Jezebel's arms as her slave sent chills to her spine. Even the thought of it was enough to break her heart, but Murtagh was right. They were going to face Jezebel sooner or later, and she wasn't going to care if he was her sister's beloved. Murtagh was powerful, and JEzebel was going to want that power for herself. Claris couldn't let that happen. She couldn't think clearly; the jealousy made her press her lips against his. The kiss was so sudden, so wild and so possessive that Murtagh froze for a moment before he kissed her back. Not that he complained, but he had thought their first kiss would have taken some time, considering how new all these feelings were to her. But then, he wondered if this was just more than a kiss. What if she was testing his mind using her seductress skills? He didn't know much about how the process worked.

At that moment, Claris was fighting the urge to do that very thing. She had never tried before, but she knew how to do it. She could try. If she claimed him before Jezebel… No other seductress would be able to steal him from her. He would be truly hers. Forever. But that also meant enslaving his mind against his will. It was no different than enslaving someone by using their true name. Murtagh would be forced to obey, please, and remain faithful to her, but that didn't mean deep inside he couldn't hate her. Just like he hated Galbatorix. She didn't want that.

"Was that a test?" Murtagh asked, still panting when they broke the kiss to catch their breath.

"Trust me, if I tested you, you'd know."

He grinned. "So, how did you like it?"

What was she supposed to say? How many times had she pictured this moment, when they lived in that abandoned cabin? How many times had she wanted to do this, without saying anything, just to let him know about her feelings, but her pride had stopped her?

"Do I have to explain? Because I don't want to waste my time talking." She gave him another brief kiss. "Let's go."

"Where?"

"Your room. Or mine. I don't care."

Murtagh looked at him to see if she really meant it. "Maybe not yet."

"What?" she snapped, feeling insulted. "I thought you'd want to—"

"No, of course I want you. But you're not thinking clearly right now."

"I'm not drunk or anything! I know what I'm doing."

"But you're angry. Because of what I said. If you regret it later, I'll never forgive myself. Don't do this to me."

He was right. Her judgment was clouded right now, and tomorrow she was probably going to regret what she had asked for.

"Thanks," she murmured and buried her head in his chest. Murtagh was gently stroking her hair.

"I know I didn't make it very obvious before, but I love you so much, Claris."

"Really?" she teased. "Since when?"

"I don't know. I truly don't. But when I saw you in that bed, covered in blood… When I realized I lost you forever… I hated myself, for being such a stubborn bastard."

Claris was still wasn't very comfortable with the fact that she had been dead. Even for a short while. Still, she chuckled.

" _Claris_ ," Nacara interrupted her thoughts. She had silently withdrawn from her mind when she realized Murtagh and Claris needed a moment. Claris hadn't even noticed. _"The council meeting is about to start. We are waiting for you."_

She and Murtagh looked at each other. Thorn had probably informed him, too. Together, they quickly pulled themselves together and left the interrogation chamber.

As they walked, Claris thought about how much the two were hiding from the rest of the world. She was a Shade, Morzan was back, and more importantly, Galbatorix's daughter and Morzan's son were in love. People weren't going to be happy about it if they found out...


End file.
